Oblivious
by Locked Up
Summary: Alfred Jones isn't popular. Instead of sports and friends he gets comics and the daily abuse of Ivan Braginski, his unofficial nemesis. But when he receives a note from a secret admirer, he learns something rather interesting about this "enemy"...slash.
1. The Note

_Heeeey! I haven't written anything in a long time, but here is an attempt at a multi-chapter fic I've been sitting on. This whole thing was written on my iPod over about three months. That is, little bits here and there. _

_This is going to be Russia x America :D And it will be something I told myself I'd never do...a high school AU. A really original idea, huh?_

_I'll try not to make A/Ns that are so impossibly long but it's kind of what I do. Oh well :P Enjoy!_

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><p>Alfred was a romantic, not that he'd ever admit it. Romantic, in his book, meant unmanly. And he was a manly man, dammit. He just liked stories about heroes. And he believed in true love. But that didn't make you all romantic and whatever other girly crap came with that.<p>

So, seeing how manly he was, he totally didn't blush a little when he found the first note in his locker at school. And he didn't sit there for hours pondering who could possibly have written it. And he definitely didn't write about the whole situation in his diary. Because it was a journal and not a diary. See?

But, romantic or not, he couldn't help it when the note came, and he couldn't help reading it. It was a love note, and though he'd never really seen one before he knew the type. Especially when it said something along the lines of "I do not go a moment without thinking of how you smile, or of how you laugh, or of the deep blue that resonates through me whenever you look in my direction, if only for a second." Yeah. He couldn't make this kind of shit up. However much it may have seemed that way.

You see, Alfred had never been real popular with the ladies. He could be more frequently seen clutching a comic book than a girl's hand. In fact, that was the case almost 100% of the time. Girlfriends were like little wisps of smoke; they just floated through his fingers and out of reach. Except for Dana in the seventh grade, but she was chubby and liked mustard and he didn't talk about her.

In fact, Alfred didn't have many friends. People thought he was weird, or spazzy, and he tended to be blunt and talk himself into places he'd rather not be in. A little bit of acne around the edges didn't help matters any, and while other guys his age were playing football and getting all jacked in the weight room, he was under the deep conviction that he had an allergy to organized excercise, and that if he did any his throat would close up and he'd die. He'd taken to drawing and pretending to know how to swordfight, which then led him into the world of comic books and D&D. Not that he hadn't tried playing football and dating cheerleaders. It would have helped for him to have made the team, or for there to have been a cheerleading squad, but the fates just weren't with him.

The little Japanese emo kid, Kiku Honda, was who he could call his best friend. Kiku was just as into comics and roleplaying, but he tended to lean toward anime and manga, and he had been the one to introduce Alfred to the wonderful world of hentai. Not that he ever, you know, looked at any. 'Cause they were just drawings, and that was gross. Anyway, Kiku was somehow able to stand Alfred, and maybe even look up to him. Alfred was desperate for attention, and Kiku was quiet and an easy follower, so they matched up pretty well.

The fact that Alfred had a friend, though, didn't stop the constant onslaught of bullying and teasing he recieved. It wasn't like he got beaten up on the playground or anything, but people just seemed to send off these vibes that they didn't like him very much. Some more than others.

Case in point: Ivan Braginski.

Stupid russky dickhead, if you'd pardon the language. He seemed to have a daily quota of "let's make Alfred feel like shit" that he whipped out whenever the two came into contact. It had never come to blows or anything like that, not even tripping or whistling or laughing with his friends. It was always just a word, a phrase, a simple statement that could make Alfred feel like crap even on his best days. In some ways it sucked way more than the other guys who smacked him on the back of the head or "accidentally" bumped him into the lockers. Some days were worse than others. It was like Alfred's own personal Insult-A-Day calendar, and it continued without fail. Sometimes it made Alfred wonder why the hell the asshole even bothered spending that much time on him coming up with these things. Just the way of the world, he guessed.

On the day he got the note, he had to admit he was feeling on top of the world. Not even Ivan could kill his buzz, and he was actually eager to just thwart the older boy. Haha, take THAT, you communist bastard!

Sure enough, on his way to third period English, Ivan was waiting in the hallway. He inspected Alfred as he apprached, in that same cold, calculating way he always did. He must have seen the note Alfred was carrying (which wasn't all that hard to miss seeing as he was reading it right in front of his nose as he walked) because as Alfred got closer he opened his mouth to speak.

"Ah, Alfred, is that a suicide note from your boyfriend? My deepest condolences."

Alfred's lip twitched a little, but he didn't say anything. That was a crappy insult, he thought. Don't let him get to you. A bad one like that was sure to be followed by a real zinger, though, so he had to be careful.

"Nah, it's a love note from yours."

TAKE THAT!

"That's too bad. Your little Japanese faggot will be so heartbroken."

Alfred's eyes widened. Oh ho ho...he was really pushing it this time. Insulting Kiku like that wasn't gonna fly. This was war.

"Not as heartbroken as your sister will be if you don't go out back with her and do God-knows-what." Ivan had two sisters, one nice one with like a double D cup who took pity on Alfred sometimes (at least, until she had graduated the year before) and a drop-dead-gorgeous one who hung off of Ivan's arm like he was Jesus. Alfred was referring to the latter.

The moment the words left Alfred's mouth he saw Ivan tense. Got 'im, the younger boy thought. Score one for the United States of Alfred. In a second, though, Ivan gained his composure. He smiled a bit sickly at Alfred.

"Well you certainly wouldn't know."

Dammit. Alfred paused for a second, desperately wracking his brain for a decent comeback. When he realized there were none, he gave Ivan a dark scowl, ignoring the smirk he knew would be planted on Ivan's face. Anyway, he needed to get to class. Fuck Ivan, he could go die in a hole. Alfred had too much to do to be wasting his time on a stupid fight like this.

And Ivan was right. Alfred had never kissed anyone in his entire life; heck, he'd never seen a pair of boobs that weren't animated or in a textbook. KIKU even had a girlfriend, even though she was over the internet. At least, Alfred thought it was a girl. All those Japanese names sounded the same, and the guys all looked like girls. That was beside the point, because if there was anything he was more sensitive about it was what his mom called his "late developing sexual maturity."

Whatever. Everyone could just go fuck themselves. Or...considering the subject matter, never fuck themselves again. See how they liked it.

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><p>Alfred had never been good at English class. The higher faculties of the language had always eluded him, and he wondered why people couldn't just say what they meant. Essays always had to be too long, books had too many chapters, and the interesting stories about heroes and things were too short.<p>

Luckily, they were in the middle of a nice, long unit on Greek and Roman mythology, which Alfred could actually stand. Hell, maybe he even liked it, just a little. Some of the stories were pretty cool, with epic journeys and big fights. Not that he really cared what the heck Persephone ate for what's-his-face underworld guy to kidnap her (though he was adamant that her name be pronounced "Purse-a-phone.") It was the travels of Odysseus and the slayings of hydras and Medusa that he cared about.

Ivan usually dished out his best right before English, though, and on boring days it kind of sucked. All he would think about was how such-and-such a comeback would have been so much better than the one he actually gave, or what he was going to say to that Russian asshole the next time he saw him.

He never managed to say what he wanted to, though. For some reason he always forgot what he was going to do, and Ivan never said or did anything to initiate those genius comebacks. That goddamn...whatever. Concentrate on the books, Jones.

The day of the note was mostly spend thinking about who, when...HOW someone had possibly decided they liked him. Not that he was unlikeable, but it wasn't like he was big and popular. Social situations didn't come easy for him, although he tried to be nice to everyone. He was the fight-difuser, the peacemaker that nobody actually cared about. Sometimes it really sucked.

What ALSO sucked was the story that they were reading and "analyzing." It was something to do with Cupid, and lots of great lovey-dovey stuff. And absolutely no epic battles, monsters or natural disasters. This meant it was boring. Thus, Alfred had even more time to contemplate the note, go through a list of possible people (mostly just the good-looking girls sitting around him at the moment), systematically picking out the ones who he would have even a chance with.

While this was a fun game, it didn't get him very far. The note gave absolutely no indication as to its author, which was pretty darn inconvenient if he thought about it. What, was this mysterious person ashamed of their crush? It was still a foreign thought to him, that someone could actually LIKE him...unless...

God, he was stupid. So damn stupid. Getting so worked up over what was so obviously, so completely STUPIDLY obviously a joke. Probably planted by jerkoff Ivan or any of the other guys who picked on Alfred. Maybe even one of the popular girls just messing around with that guy nobody liked. Dammit!

Well, there went his day. All he had to do now was pretend like he hadn't seen it, or like he hadn't cared. Don't let 'em get to you.  
>Alfred quickly crumpled the note into a ball and pitched it into the garbage can. It bounced off the rim and fell a few feet away. He was then ordered to go get it and place it in the trash the normal way.<p>

Stupid Ivan. He always managed to ruin Alfred's day somehow, and this had to be his most discreet attack yet. Assuming it was Ivan. Then again, there was still a little bit of doubt in the back of his mind. What if it was really from some girl, and he had just thrown it away? Of course, it could still be from somebody who didn't like him. Ivan probably wasn't willing to sacrifice his dignity for something like this, but there were plenty of other people who would be capable. Ivan was too smart for that, the stupid bastard.

So Alfred was deeply conflicted. The class ended, and he walked out the door, not wanting to make a scene. A few moments later, he crept back in and took the note back out of the garbage can.

He walked through the hall, the note safely stuffed in his pocket. As he went toward his locker, he saw Ivan standing over by the bathrooms, leaning against the wall and analyzing the entire hallway. His eyes stopped on Alfred for a moment, and to Alfred's surprise they held none of his usual spite or faux happiness. Instead, his expression was entirely cold, and completely emotionless. That was, somehow, worse. In a second he was looking somewhere else. Maybe he had given Alfred the note after all, and this was just his poker face. He was too obvious.

Satisfied that he knew the origin of the note, Alfred pulled it out of the crumpled note and tossed it into his now wide open locker. He didn't see Ivan for the rest of the day, and when he returned home he fell almost immediately asleep. Stupid commie bastard and his stupid commie ways.

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><p>Now, the next day could have been completely average. It could have been no big deal, and it could have passed just like all the others. It was entirely un-average, however, as Alfred recieved another note in his locker.<p>

If it had been a joke, this would be taking it further than the average bully was willing to go. To Alfred this meant only one thing-Ivan really was behind this whole fiasco. Nobody else would be willing to go this far just to get a rise out of him. Ivan was probably laughing to himself right now, Alfred thought. He was sitting there chuckling about his cleverness and evilness, because he was definitely the kind to chuckle.

Still, Alfred read the note, and he still felt a bit of pride, maybe even happiness. Even if it was a prank someone was spending a good portion of their time on him, and he really was an attention hog. Anything...it was sad but it really didn't matter.

_Alfred,  
>I know you may have thought my last letter was a hoax. I admit I may have come on a bit strongly, but I must assure you I wasn't lying. I don't know that I can tell you who I am just yet, but if you would come to the gym after school today, I could prove my affection for you. Please come. It would mean the world to me.<br>_  
>Alfred stared at it for a while, completely confused. Now, if this was a joke this would be taking it WAY too far. He felt a twinge of excitement as he realized that this could be the real deal. And, tired of being uncertain about everything, he decided to go. He would just scope out the gym, see who was there and respond accordingly. Hot girl = stay. Asshole = leave. It would be perfectly simple. He smiled to himself, wondering where all of this newfound confidence was coming from.<p>

The day passed rather uneventfully, and Alfred found himself truly excited for what would happen after school. In fact, at the end of the day he threw his books into his backpack and started quickly down the hall. He was feeling considerably more nervous than before. The anxiety came with time, and as the day crawled by class by boring class it had heightened.

Alfred's heart was pounding as he turned the corner and headed down toward the gym. It had two doors, one on either side. The one nearest him was already propped open, a garbage can wedged in between it and the doorframe. He swallowed heavily, approaching it with care. Then he leaned forward, letting one eye peek into the cavernous room.

It was empty, as far as he could see. Maybe whoever it was had forgotten...or maybe he'd gotten the day wrong...or, of course, they could be hiding. If they were, then it was almost a surefire bet that it was either Ivan or one of the other guys. Still, he peered in a little farther. Nothing.

There was a little twinge in the back of his mind, however, telling him to go inside. Maybe it was some shy girl who was hiding, or maybe he just didn't have the best vantage point from the door...whatever the reason he decided to forfeit his hiding place and head into the gymnasium.

His footsteps echoed through the deserted room as he walked inside. Alfred's backpack still hung over his shoulder, but now his hand was clutching the strap. Nobody popped out, nobody started laughing or throwing things...there was no cold insult from some unseen location.

"Hello?" Alfred called out tentatively, stopping in the center of the basketball court. His voice only made the room seem larger, the echo making it eerier.

It was as he turned back to leave that he saw it.

He froze, eyes wide. It was seven or eight gigantic pieces of paper all stuck together, words that were four or five feet tall marching across it. The banner covered a good half of the monstrous wall, large letters painted on in a rather artistic "I love you, Alfred."

His jaw may have dropped; he didn't notice. He wasn't even sure he processed any thought for a good ten or fifteen seconds. All he could think was that there was a huge love declaration pasted on a goddamn _wall_, addressed to him. To HIM. To Alfred Jones. Alfred. Someone had taken the time to do...

"Holy crap," he whispered. It was all he could get out. Without looking he reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone. Then, arm shaking, he raised it and took a snapshot of the banner. He didn't know what else to do.

A door clicked shut. It jolted him out of his reverie and he spun around. The door opposite the one he'd entered was closed. It couldn't have been wind, so he figured that someone had been watching him. He didn't know whether to follow them or not. He crept across the gym, pushing the wooden door open. Nobody was in the hall. He couldn't help the incredulous smile that kept creeping at the corners of his mouth.

As far as he knew he was the only person in the school named Alfred. And those letters to him-they were pretty much validated by now. He still couldn't get out of his mind how much effort it must have taken to put that thing up. It was so big it had to be put on the wall of the gymnasium, for crying out loud.

And, he noted with a grin that consumed his whole face, this was definitely much farther than even Ivan was willing to go.

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><p><em>So there it is! <em>

_Review? And if you find any typos, please tell me about them. I'll give you chocolate :D_


	2. I Hate School

_Oh my gods, so many reviews :D I love all of you people so much, and it spurred me to write this chapter really fast. I can't even explain how happy I was!_

_So thank you to everyone who reviewed! A lot of people seemed to like geek!Alfred too :D _

_So, without further ado, here is chapter 2!_

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><p>As he left the school Alfred flipped his phone open again. Dialing a number he knew all too well he started off on the sidewalk, waiting as it ran once, twice, three times.<p>

A click. _"Hello?"_

Alfred grinned. "Hey, Kiku! Can I come over later? I got something really awesome to show you."

"_Is it about the notes?"_

"Yeah, kinda. So, you free?"

"_I'm always free," _Kiku answered. _"You can come_."

Alfred pumped his fist into the air, grinning. "Kay, so I'll be over there in just a second!"

And it really was just a second. He turned the corner and onto Kiku's street. The shorter boy lived remarkably close to the school so he and Alfred often walked home together. His house was the largest one around, made to fit his large extended family. They seemed to be from all over Asia, giving him a different answer as to the family's origin every time. The answer he got most was "Korea. Everything originates in Korea."

He walked up the short path to their door. It was flanked by the various flowers and things that Kiku's mother liked growing. Most of them were pink or white.

He knocked three times in rapid succession, waiting on their doorstep as he heard the familiar footsteps from inside. He'd been to Kiku's house so many times that he knew the sound the floor made when someone was heading for the door. After a moment the door opened, revealing a young Korean man. It was Kiku's brother, Im Yong Soo, recently home from college.

"Hey, Alfie," he greeted the high-schooler, grinning. "Kiku's in his room. He's gonna be a sec."

Alfred stepped inside and Yong Soo closed the door behind him. "Hey! Yao! Alfred's here!" he called, shoving his hands in his pockets and going into the kitchen. It was right off of the front hall along with the living room.

"Alfred!" Yao was Kiku's uncle, his mother's brother. He came out of the kitchen, wiping his hands off on the apron he was wearing. His long black hair was pulled up in a ponytail. "Hi! You didn't come over yesterday."

"I was tired," Alfred explained. "Had to sleep."

"That's fine," Yao said with a smile. "Have fun."

Alfred thanked him and started up the stairs. Kiku's room was the first one on the left, the only sign that it was his a black dreamcatcher on the door. Alfred had always wondered why he had it but figured it wasn't important enough to ask.

He knocked on the door, the other hand closing around the strap on his backpack again. There was a pause before there was a series of clicks and the door opened. Alfred grinned, cell phone still in his hand. He had to show Kiku the picture.

The shorter boy stood in the doorway, his usual slightly pleasant smile just as unaffected as always. He'd been growing his hair out lately, letting long bangs sweep to the side. Today was one of the days he wasn't wearing eyeliner (while Alfred had protested at first to the makeup he had finally realized he couldn't do anything about it.) The long sleeves of Kiku's black and white hoodie covered his hands and he was wearing yet another pair of purple skinny jeans.

"Hi, Alfred," he said evenly. Alfred shook his head.

"Nuh uh. You gotta say it in Japanese, remember?"

Kiku sighed but it wasn't angry. "_Konnichiwa_," he said, letting Alfred into the room. The taller boy set his backpack down, pulling down the back of his shirt where it had been hiked up.

"Konnichiwa," Alfred repeated. "Now do the next part."

"_Genki desu ka?" _Kiku asked, a small smile betraying his thoughts.

"Um…" Alfred bit his lip and looked up, thinking. "Genki…desu…right?"

Kiku nodded and Alfred grinned. The former had been teaching the latter a little bit of Japanese, which Alfred accepted wholeheartedly. He had always thought it looked really cool, and it was much better than the Spanish he'd been forced to take in school. Because half the time Spanish was just an English word plus "o" or "a" or like "dor" or something, and it didn't seem like a real foreign language.

"So what did you want to show me?" Kiku asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. Alfred looked lost for a moment but quickly regained his train of thought.

"Okay, so you know how the last note told me to go to the gym?"

Kiku nodded.

"Well I did, and _this_ is what I saw on the wall," he said, giving Kiku the cell phone. He waited a moment, eyes sparkling. Kiku furrowed his brow, bringing the cell phone closer. Then he turned it to the side, still looking rather confused.

"What is it?"

Alfred's face fell. "You can't see it?" he asked, scooting around behind Kiku to look. He could tell the papers were on the wall but the screen was too small to see the writing. "Awwww…" he groaned, taking the phone back. "Anyway, it said…" he paused for effect, "'I love you, Alfred.' Isn't that awesome?"

Kiku nodded appreciatively. "That sounds wonderful."

"I'm serious! We can just go back now and see it if you don't believe me."

"No, I believe you," Kiku said, raising his eyebrows. Alfred couldn't help but feel as though it was a bit sarcastic but he didn't press it. Kiku often sounded more sarcastic than he meant. At least, that's what he said.

"So I don't know what to do now. You think there'll be another note tomorrow?" Alfred asked, still trying to manipulate the image on his phone so the sign could be viewed properly. They both sat down on Kiku's bed, Kiku falling backwards onto it and letting an arm cover his eyes.

"It depends. Who do you think it's from?"

Alfred bit his lip, narrowing his eyes at the screen again. "Dunno. Maybe like Claire or something. She's shy, isn't she?"

"She's a senior. And she has a boyfriend."

"Okay, then what about Lilly? She's in our grade."

Kiku sat up again, flipping his head a little to put his hair back in place. Alfred wondered why he kept it so long if all he did was bitch about how it was in his way. "Her brother will kill you. And how would she have gotten that up on the wall?"

Alfred gave up on the cell phone picture, letting his head fall into his hand. "I don't know, okay? I don't know any _girls_."

"It may not be someone you know. Maybe you'll just have to wait."

Alfred stared at Kiku in horror. "_Me? Wait? _Where did you get _that_ idea?_"_ he asked incredulously. Kiku's eyes widened.

They stayed that way for a moment before bursting into laughter. Alfred's laugh was loud and boisterous, filling the whole room. Kiku's was smaller, less pronounced, but Alfred could tell he was really laughing when his eyes closed and he rocked forward a little. This time he wasn't doing that, but then again it hadn't really been all that funny.

"So what if they don't give me anything tomorrow? Like, they just give up and ditch the whole thing?" Alfred asked, slightly concerned. Kiku sighed again. He did that a lot.

"Alfred-kun," he started. He only used Alfred's name when he had to say something important or completely obvious. "They made a giant banner for you. On the gymnasium _wall_."

Alfred blinked. "…so?"

Kiku looked Alfred in the eye, giving one of those 'why are you so dense?' looks he used a lot. "They'll give up when Yong Soo gives up violating us."

As if on cue there was a loud "_Get the fuck away from me!_" from downstairs, followed by rapid Korean that Kiku had told Alfred meant something to the effect of "_Your breasts are mine!_" He'd heard it often enough that it was really the only Korean phrase he could say with a degree of accuracy. Kiku said that was a bad sign.

"So there'll probably be a note tomorrow," Alfred said, understanding. Kiku nodded before holding up a finger. The yelling was still going on downstairs, probably something between Kiku's cousin Li and Yong Soo. That was how it usually went.

Kiku disappeared out the door and Alfred waited. He knew from experience that these things only took a few minutes. There was more yelling, then a big thud. Everything went silent for a moment, and then Kiku returned. He smiled pleasantly at Alfred before taking a seat next to him again.

"Everything good now?" Alfred asked. Kiku nodded. They sat in silence for a moment before Alfred spoke again. "You think it could still be a joke?"

He looked to Kiku, eyes vulnerable. The shorter boy opened his mouth as if to speak, eyes running over Alfred's face. Then he let his hand fall on Alfred's shoulder.

"I don't think it is," he replied. Alfred seemed to think about it for a second before his worried expression dropped, replaced by a grin.

"You're awesome," he said, clapping Kiku on the back. The smaller boy nearly pitched off the bed but he didn't say anything. Alfred laughed.

"Alfred!" Yao's voice rang through the house. There was always quite a bit of yelling around here. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Sure!" Alfred called back. Then his eye caught a piece of plastic leaning against the nightstand. He knew what it was immediately. "Hey, Kiku? You up for some Dissidia?"

So that's what they did.

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><p>Alfred knew something was up in the morning. It started when some guy he didn't know bumped into him in the hallway, knocking him into the wall. It wasn't unusual, not really, but for some reason it felt different. Probably because it was accompanied by kissing noises and laughter. He tried ignoring it, as usual, until he reached his locker.<p>

It was covered in Post-it notes, some with hearts but others with juvenile drawings of male anatomy and obscene messages. His hand was shaking as he reached for the lock.

"Hey, Alfie! I loooove you!" someone yelled. His eyes widened and he froze, hand resting on the open locker door. There was some laughing and he shook his head, putting his backpack inside. He kept his binder and a notebook. And there was no note inside, as far as he could tell. Alfred just bit his lip and slammed the locker shut. A few of the notes fluttered to the ground as he started down the hallway.

Kiku had a lot of advanced classes so they didn't see each other much. The only time they were able to meet up was lunch. Kiku was like a safety blanket sometimes. He was one of those people who really didn't give a shit about what people thought of him, and because he never reacted (and was absolutely beloved by every teacher he'd ever come across) the bullies had given up and gone for easier prey. Like Alfred.

He passed the main office, looking up at the number posted on the wall proclaiming the scheduled day. As he did he felt his chest tighten. Today he had gym first period. Gym. The banner. He froze. Ooooh…

That was why. That was why there were notes on his locker and why he was being harassed more than usual. So, he realized with a sigh, it _was_ a joke after all. A really well orchestrated joke he'd fallen for completely. Shit. He swallowed thickly.

Maybe he could fake an injury or something and get out of gym. He could pretend to be sick to his stomach. Or maybe he could have a headache or something. He could start shaking and say his blood sugar was low. That way he'd get food out of it too. The Nurse was right across from the main office.

But no. He couldn't do that. He couldn't run away or else he'd never live it down. Alfred let out a shaky breath, keeping his head down as he started for the gym. He wondered if the banner was still up. If it was he was probably going to have to have a convenient seizure or something. Not that that would help his reputation any.

For all the world he wished Kiku was there. Then maybe he'd have some kind of backup, even just for reassurance. Kiku always knew what to say in any situation, and more often than not the fact that he shouldn't say anything. That was an art Alfred had never figured out.

It seemed like forever before he finally reached the gym. He decided that today would be one of those days he'd just wear his street clothes during class and take the lower grade instead of risking the locker room. Because there the abuse could be taken to a new level. He set his binder down outside the doors in case he had to make an escape.

He peeked inside, already seeing the first few guys dressed and shooting baskets. It was what they did until the class actually started, all the guys who played sports year round, the ones who were on the football team and the basketball team and the baseball team all in one year. They were the kinds of guys Alfred preferred to avoid.

One must have seen him because he heard some low talking and then laughter. He had entered from the door opposite the one he'd used the day before so he'd be able to see if the banner was still there without having to go inside. It was gone but there was a pile of wadded paper on the floor in the corner. Alfred felt sick to his stomach.

"Yo, Alfie!" The nickname was widespread through the ranks of people Alfred didn't like. "Where's your buddy?"

"Shut up," he countered weakly, glaring. He stood awkwardly in the doorway until he felt a shove from behind. He went stumbling forward, nearly falling over. Another one of the big guys went past him, faking concern.

"Hey, dude, you okay? I thought your girlfriend would catch you," the guy said. Alfred crossed his arms protectively, gravitating over as far as he could from the other people in the room. He only hoped the Coach would come soon to start the class.

"Alfie!" someone yelled. Alfred barely had time to react before a basketball hit him straight in the stomach. There was some laughing. "You're supposed to catch it!"

He really, really didn't want to be there. The basketball bounced away, only to be scooped up by someone else. They raised their eyebrows at him, looking like they were going to pass it again. He held his arms up to catch. Maybe if he caught it they'd leave him alone.

The boy faked a throw but Alfred went for it, nerves too tight to stop himself. He grabbed at the air, spurring on another laugh. But he couldn't leave. He had to stay here and show he wouldn't back down. Like Kiku. He faked a smile, pretending to laugh along with the other guys.

"Nice," he said halfheartedly. Nobody was listening. Some of the guys had gone back to shooting as more and more guys trickled into the gym. Alfred always wondered why, when there were so many other guys like him, he was the one who was targeted. Well, he kind of knew. It was always Ivan, and for some reason the imposing boy had it out for him. Ivan was cool. People liked him, and if they didn't they feared him. Either way it had the same effect. And if he was an asshole to someone they were an asshole to that guy too.

"Okay, everyone!" a booming voice echoed through the gym. The guys by the basketball hoop held onto the ball, turning to the door. The Coach entered, a wild grin on his face and a red ball tucked under his arm. Nobody ever used his real name; he was just Coach. And he was crazy. Certifiably insane. Like talking-to-yourself-not-caring-for-the-sanctity-of-human-life type crazy. From his randomly spiked hair to canines that looked like they'd been pointed to the necklace in the shape of a battle axe he wore all the time he was really something. "Kickball! You, you, you and you outfield, you and you plate…" he continued until teams had been formed. His finger settled on Alfred. "Jones! Why're you wearing jeans?"

Alfred opened his mouth to answer, though he should have known better. "He's waiting for his girlfriend!" someone called. Alfred glared at them.

"Sure, whatever!" Coach called, shrugging. "Kick!"

Alfred trudged over to the line forming behind home plate. He stared ahead, not looking at any of the guys to his sides. They were unimportant anyway and he didn't want to encourage any _comments_.

From there gym was okay. Alfred only had to kick once and he almost made it to second base before called out. When they had a goal the people who usually made fun of him were okay. During games they got serious and were more concentrated on winning than teasing Alfred.

The moment the bell rang, however, Alfred was out. He snatched up his things outside the door, thankful that nothing had been done to them. At least not that he could see, and that was good enough for him. His next class today was study hall, a wonderfully welcome respite.

* * *

><p>Study hall was held in the cafeteria, and as Alfred entered he was happy to see that it was very sparsely populated. Some days it was full to the brim with people working on projects or talking but now he had nearly the whole room to himself. Still, he sat in the back corner, all the way at the end of one of the large lunch tables.<p>

He saw the piece of paper when he opened his notebook.

As his eyes fell upon the folded piece of lined paper his heart soared. A grin slowly formed as he unfolded it, eyes sliding over the writing. Kiku had been right. He almost felt like laughing.

_Alfred,_

_I'm so sorry. In no way did I intend the reaction my message would get. It's my fault. I will try to find a way to make it up to you. If you don't wish for me to bother you anymore that's fine. But if it's okay, I have included something special here. I hope you use it._

Alfred re-read the note twice. Whoever had written the note had signed it with the words "_Love, Sunflower."_ That was new. Who the hell was "Sunflower?" Was it a nickname or something? He didn't know anyone who was called that.

He unfolded the rest of the note and saw a bit of writing at the bottom. It was a series of numbers followed by the words "text me if you want."

Alfred's breath caught. He looked around, pulling out his cell phone. Nobody else seemed to be paying him much attention, what few people there were. He flipped it open, heart pounding. Carefully he put in the number, eyes wide.

Now he had to decide what to say. If it was a joke and this was just some random number the message had to be unassuming, random, something only the person who wrote the notes would get. This was a real gamble, he realized. But after the events of the morning he decided there wasn't much farther he could fall.

So, with a quivering thumb, he wrote one word and hit send.

…_sunflower?_

* * *

><p><em>Oooh, one step closer...and emo!Kiku makes an appearance! I think as this story goes on you'll start to notice how many of the characters spring from my headcanon. Like the "Coach." Can you guess who that is? X3<em>

_Review? And if you can find any typos I'll give you a sticker :D_


	3. Project? What Project?

_Hello, my pretties! I can't believe the love I'm getting for this story; thank you all! You're all magnificent and I love you! _

_Just as a warning, Belgium will be in this chapter and I don't call her what a lot of other people do. Like I said with the headcanon. So her name will be Emma Lambert here, because Emma was one of the names that Himaruya suggested for her and I thought it fit. Just so you don't freak out XD _

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Study hall ended and Alfred had not received an answer. He kept his phone clutched in his hand, just waiting for the tell-tale buzzing that would indicate a reply. The phone was then transferred into his pocket as he went to English. Oh, crap. English.<p>

Alfred's chest tightened as he realized he was headed into Ivan's territory. There was no telling what kind of abuse he'd receive for the banner. He only hoped it wouldn't unleash a whole new set of torments from others taking Ivan's example. As he approached the hall that contained all of the core classes he started making a mental list of all the possible things Ivan could say. If he knew what was coming before it happened it would probably lessen the blow a little.

What he wasn't expecting was the empty space on the wall where Ivan usually stood prior to third period. He blinked, not quite comprehending. Ivan had always stood there. Always. Since the beginning of time Ivan had stood there just before English class. He'd probably been born there. And yet there it was, completely empty space. No Ivan in sight.

Alfred could have laughed, instead opting for a grin that would not earn him stares. He nearly skipped into the English room, setting his books down on his desk and OH DEAR SWEET MOTHER OF GOD WHY—

"Good morning," Ivan said from his seat RIGHT NEXT TO ALFRED'S. Alfred froze, eyes shooting wide. His hands were just inches from his binder, and he wasn't sure he could move. He just stared at the sick smile curled on Ivan's face, and the predatory look in his eyes, not quite able to fathom why the hell he was sitting there.

"Okay, class!" a shrill voice shot through the chatter of the room. Alfred didn't move, still frozen solid. "Settle down!"

The other students took their seats but Alfred's muscles wouldn't let him. He just blinked and blinked and blinked, hoping each time that he'd open his eyes and it would all be a terrible dream.

"Alfred!" He was jolted out of his stupor by the teacher. She snapped her fingers. "In your seat."

He quickly sat down, unaware as to whether anyone was laughing or not. He didn't care.

"Okay! So, as you may have noticed," Ms. Héderváry started, a bright smile on her face, "We have a new addition to the class. Because of some scheduling issues, Mr. Braginski, here—" she gestured to Ivan, smug bastard "—will be joining us for the remainder of the year. I know he isn't a new student but I expect you to treat him with as much respect as anyone else."

Heh. Like someone _wasn't_ going to respect Ivan. His very presence practically demanded respect. He was good-looking. He was intelligent. He could glare a hole in the ground and then talk you into it. Around the school he was God, and everyone knew it. Especially Alfred, the lowly little…what was he, even, in the great big metaphor of high school? He didn't even know.

"Right! Now, with that said, we're going to be starting a project." A chorus of groans. "Come on, now. It's going to be related to the story we read yesterday. You can even start it in class."

She went up to the chalkboard, her long brown hair flowing behind her. "It will be a multimedia interpretation of a literary device or theme in the story. To recap, can anyone tell me what happened?"

A few students here and there (mostly the overachievers) offered little tidbits of information regarding the story of Cupid and Psyche, until what seemed like hours later Ms. Héderváry put down the chalk and clapped her hands together.

"So now that we have the basic gist," she started, "I would like you all to choose one theme or element of the story. Then I'm going to pair you up and you will work with a partner to create a visual or audible representation of each element and how they relate to each other."

Alfred hated partners. He didn't have many friends besides Kiku, and none of the others were in his English class. They weren't that good of friends anyway, not really. He grumbled into his binder, hoping he wasn't paired with someone stupid. Or, God forbid, Ivan.

No, that would be too clichéd.

Oh, right, he was supposed to be figuring out a theme from the story. Truthfully, even having gone over the main points he still couldn't remember what it was about. Carefully, he peered over at the person sitting next to him (but not Ivan), trying to read what they were writing into their notebook. He couldn't see.

Then he looked over at Ivan, only to find that the large boy had covered his paper with his arm. It was funny to watch him work, really. He was very focused and his face was blank.

_Theme. I need a theme_. He tapped his pencil on the closed notebook, gazing up at the words written on the board. There were things like "mistakes" and "jealousy" written in Ms. Héderváry's loopy handwriting. He didn't want to pick anything on the chalkboard. That kind of felt like cheating. So, instead, he opened his textbook and flipped to the page with the story on it.

After skimming for a while, he realized what the main idea of the story was. It was something he was ashamed to admit he liked, but it was a love story. And it had to do with stuff like True Love and Sacrifices. Including the capitalization.

True love. That seemed like a theme Ms. Héderváry would like. All the mushy stuff got her really emotional sometimes. So that's what Alfred would write about. It was easy to link to other people's themes too, so he could pretty much get paired with anyone. That saved him the embarrassment of having picked something hard, like the "concept of fairness" or "dramatic irony." Or whatever else was up on the board.

He wrote the two words on a sheet of paper, and from there he was lost. Oh well. He could figure it out when he was given a partner. All he had to do was wait until then. It didn't seem like he'd have to wait long, because just seconds later the teacher cleared her throat.

"Now, if everyone has decided on a theme they'd like to work with, I'm going to pair you up." There were some people who pointed violently at other people in an effort to make her choose that person. "…using the popsicle sticks."

More groans. Ms. Héderváry picked up the little jar filled with popsicle sticks. Each one had a name on it, and she shook it around for a second before pulling each one out. "Okay…now…"

She paired up nearly everyone, but she didn't get to Alfred. He bit his lip, looking around at his possible choices. Ivan hadn't been given a partner either. He just sat there, that smug smile still planted on his stupid face.

"Alfred," the teacher said, picking out a popsicle stick and setting it on her desk. Alfred jumped. "You are with…" she picked up that second stick, reading the name before saying it. "…Emma."

All of Alfred's insides seemed to unclench at once. He shot a glance at the "Emma" in question. It couldn't possibly be…no…no way…

It was. Holy mother of fucking _everything_, it was. Emma, _the_ Emma who was probably the hottest girl in school, sitting right over there, looking at him, and they were gonna be working on a project together and _holy crap_. Alfred was sure his thoughts completely stopped for a second. He smiled a little, waving to her. She smiled back.

Because not _only_ was she goddamn sexy, she was nice too. And smart. And Alfred had never even imagined he'd be able to _talk _to her at any point in his life, let alone have her to himself for untold hours. He wondered what she would have chosen for her theme. More than that, he wondered what her favorite color was.

"We're gonna get right down to business here, so you can get with your partner and start planning your project!" Ms. Héderváry said, clapping her hands together. "Ivan, honey, can I see you for a second?"

Alfred nearly jumped from his seat, propelling himself toward Emma. Her desk was always so neat, with her pink notebook stacked neatly on top of her lone textbook. A pen sat perfectly parallel to the side of the book, and she picked it up to start writing. Alfred pulled up a surrounding chair and scooted up to her desk. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ivan walk up to the front of the now disorderly room.

Alfred turned back to Emma, eyes trailing over her involuntarily. She wasn't as horribly skinny as some of the other girls and very curvy. Her shoulder-length blonde hair curled up just a little at the ends, framing her heart-shaped face in the best way possible. She wore a considerable amount of makeup, frosty pink lipstick and thick eyeliner.

"So," he started, biting his lip. "What was your theme?"

She didn't respond for a second, and he saw she was watching him. He swallowed nervously. "Um, well, mine was—"

"Do you know Ivan?"

The question caught Alfred off guard. "Huh?"

She repeated herself. "Do you know Ivan? Like, a friend?"

"Not really. I mean, he kinda hates me," Alfred said, scratching his head. Emma looked slightly put out, but then she seemed to think of something else and her face brightened. She looked cute like that.

"Do you know what he likes?" she asked. Alfred furrowed his eyebrows. He thought about answering with something clever like _"not me" _but he couldn't seem to say it.

"I dunno. I usually try to avoid him." Alfred wasn't quite sure where these questions were going.

"Hm…" Emma seemed to ponder this for a second. "Do you know if he's single?"

Oh. So that's where. He shrugged glumly, marveling a bit at how Ivan could ruin his day without even doing anything. Just his _presence_ seemed to make Alfred's life just a little more miserable. "I'm not sure," he answered vaguely.

"Don't you think he's hot?" Emma asked. Alfred blinked, staring at her incredulously.

"Um…I don't really swing that way," he said, glancing over at Ivan. The taller boy was still talking to Ms. Héderváry, and she was showing him something on her desk. Hopefully the notice that he was being expelled.

Emma looked quite embarrassed. "Oh," she said, her mouth forming an _o_. "I always thought you were with that one kid. The Japanese one."

Alfred was a little uncomfortable, but he tried to hide it. "It's cool. But we're both straight, y'know. And even if was…um…not-so-straight, Ivan's kinda like my enemy. So…" he trailed off.

"Right, right. So my topic was…oh, he's looking at me!" Emma cut herself off, looking brightly in Ivan's direction. Alfred turned and froze.

Those cold eyes were directed right at him, and for some reason he knew it wasn't Emma Ivan was staring at. He swallowed as that twisted smile spread across Ivan's face. It was the empty smile he gave right before delivering the line that would be sure to kill Alfred's buzz. Crap. Alfred's gaze shot away, back down to the desk in front of him. Ivan was probably going to be making up for his absence earlier by doling out more than usual. He'd had more time to think about it, more time to watch Alfred and figure out what to point out about him that would make Alfred self-conscious or embarrassed or…

"True love!" he spat out, jerking Emma out of her Ivan-related stupor. She looked at him with wide eyes, looking quite confused. "That was my theme," he explained sheepishly.

"Ooooh," she replied, nodding in understanding. "That's cute," she said with a grin. Alfred didn't flush. He swore he didn't. "I have _Divine Interference in Human Affairs_."

Alfred blinked. Now how the _hell_ was he supposed to link _anything _to that, especially when he didn't even know what it _was_? "Cool," he said lamely. "So, uh…can you, um, explain?" He hated asking, hoping it sounded more inquisitive than stupid.

Then Emma launched into an explanation that Alfred really tried to follow. It was difficult, though, while he contemplated for the second time what Ivan would say to him. Maybe it would be something about the banner, or Emma, or all the staring Alfred seemed to be doing. Or maybe just how he was looking that day, or God forbid Ivan had found out about the notes and the secret admirer. That would be insult fodder for weeks, possibly the rest of Alfred's life.

But, as always, the class ended. And Emma had invited herself over to his house to work on the project more. Apparently her theme had taken the whole class period to explain. Alfred wondered how he was going to be able to "represent" it if even the shorthand version took that long.

"See ya," Emma had said as she'd left the class. For never really having had a conversation with her before, she was nicer than expected. And to _him_ of all people. Maybe guys didn't really spread the whole "beat on Alfred" thing to the girls. He didn't really know.

He left class as fast as possible, speeding down the hallway in order to avoid whatever impending abuse Ivan was planning. As he got about halfway down the hall he felt the buzzing in his pocket. He jumped before realizing what it was. Immediately a flood of excitement filled his chest. He dug the phone out, flipping it open and eagerly reading the awaiting message.

It was from Kiku. Alfred sighed, thoroughly disappointed. It was a question about whether Alfred would be coming over later. Oh. There was another bit of good news he could share. He wouldn't be able to come over because Emma would be. Yes, _that _Emma. He grinned, sending the message. Kiku would think he was awesome.

His next few classes went well, or rather, they didn't go badly. No more big projects to do, just a little homework here and there. Nothing he couldn't get through, and it wasn't like he had something better to do most nights. But tonight…tonight he'd be hanging with Emma, the girl every guy in the school thought about, single or not. And she was coming over to his place. He felt kind of badass, especially since she'd been the one to suggest it.

The bell rang and Alfred went back to his locker to get ready to go. He had to get the house ready for Emma. Oh hell yes, Emma. _Emma fricking Lambert_. Yes, that one. Coming to his house after school so they could work on a project and what if she decided she liked him? What if she thought they should go out? He grinned. What if—

"Hello, Alfred."

Only one guy besides Kiku called him "Alfred." A chill ran down Alfred's spine and he stopped in his tracks. He didn't turn around, already knowing who was behind him. He took a deep breath. "What do you want?"

"She's only humoring you, I hope you realize," Ivan said coolly. "It is cute, though, how you think she really likes you."

Alfred turned to face Ivan, glaring. "Shut up. What do you know?"

"Your cooperation is necessary for her grade," Ivan continued. "But I wouldn't want to bring you down. Keep thinking she actually cares, if you wish."

"You're just jealous," Alfred countered, but he felt something in the back of his mind spark to life. What if Ivan was right? What if Emma was just acting all nice and smiley just because of school? What if she hated him, or thought he was an idiot like everyone else?

"You will be able to tell later, you know," Ivan said, that smile that made Alfred sick touching his lips. "When she doesn't come you'll know."

"Yeah, well, she will. She's the one who said she would."

"Aaaah," Ivan sighed, looking as though he'd just been enlightened to something important. "That's another of your shortcomings. You can't even take charge of a situation as mundane as that. She was _disappointed,_ Alfred. She wanted _you_ to ask _her_. But instead you sat there and stared at me. I'm flattered."

Alfred gaped, unable to find anything to say. His shoulders hunched up a little involuntarily, protectively. "You're just an asshole," he mumbled, looking away. Ivan smiled with mock kindness.

"I'm just looking out for you, мой Алфредка."

There he went with the commie language again. Alfred couldn't do anything but glare. "Go away. What do you care?"

Ivan laughed, though it was far less like the evil chuckle Alfred had imagined. "Of course I care for you. Where would I be without you?" he asked cryptically, looking smug as hell. Alfred bit his lip, turning to walk away.

"Don't worry!" Ivan called lightly after him. "When she leaves you alone you can always come crying to me!"

Alfred bit all the way through his lip.

* * *

><p>Alfred had cleaned the house, washed the dishes, rearranged the living room and set out a bag of chips. He was pumped. It was just a few more minutes before Emma was supposed to arrive, and he was determined to prove Ivan wrong. Emma would be coming. She wasn't the type to play people like that. She was nice, unlike <em>some<em> people.

Ten minutes later and she wasn't there. That was okay, he decided. Ten minutes was nothing. Maybe she got lost, or she was late getting out of the house. Maybe she was gussying up for him. He decided to talk to Kiku a little in the spare time, enthusing about the planned afternoon.

At five he decided something was wrong. It had been a full half an hour and she still wasn't there. He could almost feel his stomach as it sank. No. Ivan couldn't be right. He told Kiku about what was happening, and his friend could only say positive things. Keep your hopes up. She'll be here.

He glanced at the clock again. It was only three minutes after five. He needed to stop checking the time. Instead, he pulled out his phone, tongue running over the scab on his lip as he searched for a game to play. He just needed something to pass the time with; it wasn't like he was giving up. Maybe Emma thought it was the wrong time.

At six Alfred's mother came home from work. She was looking very tired, and she asked him why he was just sitting there. He spent most of his time in his bedroom, so seeing him just lounging about in the living room was a surprise. She also noticed that he'd done cleaning, an activity he usually abhorred. He just told her he was expecting someone.

She went to go take a nap and Alfred checked the time again. Emma was more than an hour and a half late. He felt his nose sting a little. So she wasn't coming. He didn't even want to tell Kiku, even though he knew the smaller boy would be comforting. Instead, he kicked off his shoes and pulled his knees up to his chest on the couch. He wasn't going to cry about something as stupid as this. He should be used to stuff like this by now.

There were a few moments of silence before his phone vibrated again. He flipped it open, skimming through Kiku's latest message.

Only, it wasn't from Kiku.

Alfred's eyes widened as they fell across the words typed on the little screen. Then, a slightly desperate smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He curled up tighter, reading the words over and over again. It was a bit disbelieving, a bit in awe, a bit of joy and something that was there, beating down the sadness thickening his chest. He didn't know what it was about the simple words that made him feel this way.

_Hello, my Alfred._

* * *

><p><em>Awww. Isn't that adorable?<em>

_Review? And if you can point out any typos you'll get my eternal gratitude and a box of Cheez-its ;)_


	4. Fall of the House of Braginski

_Why hello, my pretties! I didn't see you standing there! Your face must have been obscured by all the SWEET GLORIOUS REVIEWS I got :D Thank you to everyone who reviewed. I can't believe how many I've gotten!_

_Don't get used to the quick updates here, though. You beautiful people are getting this so soon because school was cancelled (on the second day -.-) and I have had nothing to do. I love writing this so much but as school progresses I'm not going to have as much time. So instead of every other day (or every day) the chapters will be coming out a bit farther apart. I'll try to keep it under a week, though ^^_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p><em>Who r u?<em>

That was the message Alfred had left for Sunflower before he went to bed. There had been no sign of Emma and no calls from her so he figured it was hopeless. He'd left the chips out on the table, though. Just in case she came by and got hungry or something. Not that that would happen.

He left his phone on the space in the bed next to him all night, just in case the Sunflower person decided to reply while he was asleep. He wasn't sure.

It had always been hard for Alfred to fall asleep, and tonight was no exception. He often sat up at night, thinking about the day. Most of his thoughts were usually about Ivan and what he could've and should've said. Today they were mostly about Emma, trying desperately to justify her absence in his head. She had to have had a good reason for not showing up. Maybe her grandma died, or she was grounded, or maybe her parents took her shopping and she dropped her phone in the toilet.

Or maybe she really just didn't like him. It wouldn't be a new thing. Maybe the reason why she was fawning over Ivan so much was that they were together and plotting against Alfred. That would be why Ivan had said she wouldn't show up. Maybe they got Ms. Héderváry in on it too, and that's why she'd paired them together. It could all be another one of Ivan's plots to make his life hell.

It was with these thoughts that Alfred finally drifted off into a semi-sleep. From there he didn't know what happened, only that there was no ringing phone. No ringing phone. He'd just have to wait a little longer to see what Sunflower had to say. He only hoped it wasn't a joke too.

* * *

><p>"So, did you and your friend have fun yesterday?" Alfred's mother asked in the morning. They sat at the kitchen table, and he nearly choked on his cereal.<p>

"Huh? Oh, um, they kinda…yeah, we did." He took another bite, a bit nervously.

"Who was it?"

Crap. "Her name is Emma," he tried to say nonchalantly. His mother smiled.

"That's nice. Are you two friends?"

"Yeah, kinda." He wished she'd drop the subject before she found out anything embarrassing. Like the fact that Emma'd been a no-show.

"I'm glad you're making friends," his mother settled on, shooting her son an encouraging smile. He smiled back, but it was fleeting and he was back to his cereal. Sunflower hadn't responded yet, but he kept his cell phone in his pocket. Y'know, just in case.

From there it was pretty quiet, his mother leaving to go do something-or-other. Alfred checked his phone again, just in case he'd missed something. The screen still told him he had no new messages. Oh well. He could wait.

Soon it was time for school, and he got ready. Then, giving a quick "Bye!" into the quiet house he left.

* * *

><p>Emma wasn't in school.<p>

As Alfred went to English class, still unused to the fact that Ivan was no longer standing by the wall to torture him on his way, he didn't see Emma once. He even waited by the door for her to come, but she never did. He thought it could be that she was at the Nurse, or that she'd transferred classes like Ivan, but that wasn't the case.

He even went so far as to ask Ms. Héderváry if she knew anything about Emma's whereabouts. The answer he got surprised him.

"I think her mother said that she had some kind of allergic reaction to something. She won't be in all week." Ms. Héderváry shrugged. Alfred's mouth fell open. For a moment the English teacher looked a bit confused, but then the realization came. "Oooh, that means you don't have a partner."

"It's okay," Alfred said quickly. "I can just do it on my own. Is…um…is she okay?"

"She'll be fine," Ms. Héderváry assured him. "But I'm afraid this is a group project. I don't think I can let you do it alone."

"But…doesn't everyone else already have a partner?" he asked carefully, eyes scanning the room.

"Ivan doesn't."

"No!" Alfred cried, catching the teacher by surprise. "I mean…um…he and I don't really, you know…"

"I know," Ms. Héderváry said sympathetically. "It's only this once. You two need to get over this."

"But…you know…the project wouldn't be as good…"

"And that's why you should be partnered. I'm not asking you to fly to the moon, Alfred. It's just a project. You need to learn to work together."

"Come _on_…" Alfred whined, shooting a desperate glance at the tall boy sitting daintily in his seat. "I can't."

"It's _not a big deal_. You're the hero, aren't you?"

Oh, that was cold. And so, using Alfred's own childhood self-identity against him, Ms. Héderváry got Alfred to agree to working with his sworn enemy. You'd think it'd take more than that.

He grudgingly walked over to Ivan's desk, not making any eye contact. He could imagine the spiteful glint in the other boy's eyes. Oh, he _really_ didn't want to say this. Maybe if he just told the truth and said that the teacher strong-armed him into this he'd be able to save some face. Or Ivan would make fun of him for having been walked all over.

"Ah, Alfred. I was just going to say hello. That pimple on your chin is lovely, did you just get it done?"

Alfred bit his tongue, almost ready to high-tail it out of there and take the low grade. "Shut up."

"I'm sorry, that must have come out wrong. I find your acne impossibly endearing," Ivan said with a smirk. "What brings you here?"

"Ms. H says…" Alfred started, clenching his fists. "…thatwehavetoworktogether."

"You should speak up. Your voice already sounds like white noise."

"We have to work together," Alfred mumbled, glaring at the taller boy. Oh, how he didn't want to be there. The fiery pits of hell would be a more appealing location. "On the project."

A look of realization crossed Ivan's face before his mouth split into a superficial grin. "That sounds wonderful," he said smoothly. "I look forward to it." Alfred was pretty sure there was some sarcasm there. He crossed his arms.

"So, what's your theme?"

Ivan blinked at him for a moment before he held up a finger. "Not yet. I'm very sorry, Alfred, but I must go. I know how you will pine for me in my absence," he said, wiggling his eyebrows in mock flirtation. Alfred felt kind of sick. "I'm sure I'll have time to tell you later." Then he stood up.

"What?" Alfred asked, deeply confused. What was Ivan pulling now?

"You will come to my house after school," Ivan explained happily. Alfred gaped.

"Like hell I'm doing that!"

"Then I suppose you wish to fail?" Ivan asked icily. "You aren't _that_ stupid."

Alfred shifted uncomfortably in place, that familiar sinking feeling clenching his stomach. It was the feeling he got when Ivan said something that hit home and he didn't want to show it. He swallowed thickly.

"Whatever," he finally said. "Fine." He looked down.

He heard some scribbling, and then a light pressure on his forehead. He jumped back, hand flying up. There was a Post-it note stuck there and he ripped it away, fearful of what it would say. To his relief it was only an address. He heard Ivan walking around him, and then the other boy stopped.

"You should show up," Ivan whispered right behind him. He shivered but had nowhere to move. A chill ran down his spine as the voice came closer, and he could feel the breath on his ear. "Or else."

Alfred pitched forward, whipping around just in time to see Ivan leave. Fortunately, nobody seemed to have noticed, and if they had they were keeping it to themselves. All Alfred could process was that that had possibly been the freakiest thing that had ever happened to him. And that he had just been conned into going to Ivan's house. He could only imagine what Ivan would do once he got there. This was like _asking_ to be insulted.

"_Fuck_," he whispered, slinking back to his seat. Ms. Héderváry was explaining something to another couple of students sitting on the air conditioner by the windows. Alfred's eyes scanned the room, glancing over each pair as they worked on their projects. From his vantage point in the back he could see nearly everyone.

What he didn't see was the tall boy standing just outside the room, slowly sliding down the wall to the floor, a blissful smile on his face.

* * *

><p>Alfred met up with Kiku at his locker right before lunch. He had been anxious all morning following English, and he needed someone to vent his worries on. Kiku was very good at listening and responding to that kind of thing. Alfred explained the whole situation on the way to the cafeteria.<p>

"That sounds horrible," Kiku said sympathetically as they got into line. "What do you plan to do?"

Alfred shrugged. "He told me to come. And then he got all creepy close and said 'Or else.' I feel kinda like I got molested."

"I think you should go," Kiku said, waiting with Alfred even though he brought his lunch every day. "If only for the project."

"You sure?" Alfred asked apprehensively. "I mean, it's _Ivan_. And his _house_. For all I know he's gonna kill me. Violently."

"If he tries anything strange you can call me," Kiku assured him. "I'll send Yong Soo."

"You got any pepper spray? Just in case?"

Kiku sighed, but it was lighthearted. "Relax. It won't be bad," he said. He looked up at Alfred, a light smile decorating his lips. Today he was wearing that eyeliner, and he clutched his lunchbox in front of him with both hoodie-covered hands. Sometimes even Alfred had to admit that his best friend was kind of cute—not like _that_, though. More like a stuffed animal or doll.

"I guess I don't have much of a choice, huh?" Alfred asked, leaving the line with his tray and starting for one of the empty tables. Kiku followed. "Whatever. I guess I'll go. But just for the project."

"Of course."

They sat and Alfred realized how hungry he was. For the moment he put all thoughts of Ivan and how much the afternoon was going to suck behind him and dug into his food. Ah, hamburgers. The food of the gods. It was really beautiful, sitting there on his blue plastic tray. From the puffy bun to the pickles and ketchup and finally to the wonderful burger itself, nestled between all the layers like a diamond in the rough.

Damn, he was hungry.

Just as he was about to take a huge, succulent bite of the hamburger he heard some yelling. Both he and Kiku glanced up to the cafeteria doors, where there seemed to be an argument going on between a student and the dean. Now, this was a strange occurrence, because you _didn't_ mess with the dean. Rumor was that he was a member of three branches of the military, the French Foreign Legion and that he had a black belt in both Karate and Judo. And he owned a bazooka. And he was a bounty hunter. With telekinesis.

Anyway, there was definitely an argument going on, and Mr. Zwingli was definitely there. The other person, who looked like an older student, was really letting him have it too. Alfred just barely recognized him, but he couldn't put the face to a name. The guy was wearing a lot of black, like Kiku, but his hair was spiked up and he had a long tattoo snaking up one arm. And his pants were plaid. It was quite the combination.

"_You_ give that to me before I feel compelled to suspend you!" Mr. Zwingli shot in his shrill voice. The boy glared intensely.

"Go ahead! See if I care! This is all a lot of shit anyway!" the boy cried. Alfred could tell he had an accent, probably English or something. Anyway, it wasn't American and it wasn't like the accent Kiku had, the remnants of a former language.

"I've had just about enough of you! If you don't give me that bag _this instant_—"

"What, you'll bitch at me some more? You're a bloody fucking _joke!_" The boy got up on a lunch table, crossing his arms. In one of his hands Alfred could see what looked like a woven purse.

"Arthur, get down from there," another voice said. Alfred recognized this one. It was Francis Bonnefoy, a senior. His long, blond hair looked a lot like Emma's. "You're making a scene."

"This isn't mine!" Arthur yelled at Mr. Zwingli, completely ignoring Francis. He gestured to the bag in his hand. "I'm not taking any fucking _crap_ for it!"

"Then _give it to me!_" Mr. Zwingli yelled. "Get down from there _now_ and I'll _consider _not _expelling_ you!"

It happened in an instant. "Fine!" Arthur yelled, leaping off the table. He darted out the door, dashing down the hallway. Mr. Zwingli pulled a walkie talkie from his belt and started shouting orders into it as he started after the boy. Francis massaged his temples, walking out after the two others. Then, for a moment, the cafeteria was silent.

It was only for a moment, though, and then everyone erupted into sound. People started asking others what had happened, and did they know Arthur, and what do you think was in the bag? Drugs, almost everyone said. Arthur was a druggie, wasn't he? Or maybe it was a knife.

"Who's he?" Alfred asked Kiku, quite confused.

"Arthur Kirkland. He's in my math class."

"That was pretty cool," Alfred said admiringly. "Zwingli was pissed. I thought he was gonna shoot 'im."

"That would have been counterproductive," Kiku said. Alfred shrugged and finally took that big bite of the hamburger. It was wonderful.

Lunch ended without much consequence, and Alfred left Kiku to go use the bathroom. As he approached, however, he heard some talking, and two very familiar voices. He froze, eyes burning with excitement as he saw Arthur and Francis turn the corner.

"…Zwingli could have done better," Alfred heard Arthur grumble. "Got half his lines wrong. I don't know how we're going to do this."

"Hey," Alfred greeted them. Francis raised his eyebrows.

"He was spitting all over me," Arthur complained. "How did the scene look?"

"That was really cool," Alfred said as the two older boys passed. Arthur didn't seem to notice.

"I thought the angle was a bit off. There weren't any interruptions, though. That would have been a pain to play off of," Arthur continued.

"What was that all about?" Alfred tried again. This time Arthur looked at him, a little in surprise before coming to an understanding.

"We're making a film," he said, wiggling a video camera in front of his face. Then he turned back to Francis. "I think for the next scene we should take it from a higher place. The seats in the auditorium should give us enough lift…"

"Wait, so that was all fake?" Alfred asked, finding himself extraordinarily curious. He'd never known anyone who was making a movie before. "That's awesome!"

Arthur sighed impatiently, apparently quite irritated that Alfred was still there. "Yes. Now, if you'll excuse us we have some work to do."

"Arthur," Francis chided. "You must learn how to take a compliment." He smiled at Alfred. "Don't mind him. He's tense."

"Am not!" Arthur protested, glaring at the other boy. When he was this close Alfred could see studs in his nose and eyebrow.

Then, to Alfred's complete surprise, Francis grabbed Arthur's hand and held it. "Relax. You were wonderful." A moment later he leaned over to plant a kiss on Arthur's cheek. Alfred's eyes widened. So…um…well…

To get one thing straight (no pun intended), Alfred wasn't homophobic. He just never really saw gay people anywhere. Guys (and girls, he guessed) who were out of the closet were few and far between in school, so he'd just been surprised. It wasn't something he was used to. So he just kind of watched as Arthur and Francis walked down the hall, casually holding each other's hands. And for some reason he couldn't look away.

* * *

><p>That time of the day rolled around again, and this time Alfred was dreading it much more than usual. Because the moment that bell rang he'd be heading out the door and to the house of the person he liked least. All by himself. He'd wanted to ask Kiku to go with him but he couldn't subject his friend to whatever tortures he'd undergo in the house of Braginski.<p>

But the time came, and as he slipped on his backpack he felt the vibration in his pocket. Immediately his hand shot to retrieve his phone. He flipped it open, a smile forming on his lips. Finally, the answer from Sunflower he'd been waiting for the whole day.

_I'm sorry, Alfred. I cannot tell you quite yet. How are you?_

Well, shit. He sighed, a bit disappointed. Then he reminded himself that the person he was talking to was the one who'd sent him the letters and put up the banner and the smile returned a little as his thumbs shot across the buttons.

_Ugh not good. have 2 work on a project w/ braginski. life sucks. wbu? _

He sent the message, snapping the phone shut. So this Sunflower person was actually talking to him. Alfred was pretty pumped, actually. And she'd said that she couldn't tell him her identity _yet_. Which meant that eventually he'd find out, and it would be awesome.

Now, however, it was time for the not-so-awesome.

He pulled out the crumpled note from his pocket, straightening it out to read the address written on it. It was actually only a couple streets away from where he lived. That was kind of creepy, when he thought about it. It meant that Ivan could stalk him or something, and it would be easy. He should probably get a restraining order one of these days.

The walk was uneventful, unless you call jumping to avoid a dog turd an event. And then he was there, in front of Ivan's house. For a moment he was sure he was mistaken. It looked way too normal, just another suburban house with a car in the driveway and a basketball hoop set up by the garage. It was eerily familiar.

He knew that Ivan could drive, so he was almost positive the taller boy would have been home before him. It would be awkward if he knocked on the door and some parents he didn't know, who were probably vampires or something, answered.

It took all his willpower to raise his hand and knock. A moment later he felt kind of like an idiot, his eye catching the doorbell sitting right next to the doorframe. It didn't matter, though, because an instant later the doorknob clicked and the door swung open. Alfred jumped, staring up with wide eyes at Ivan.

"Hello, Alfred," he said, as he always did. Then he stepped to the side, gesturing to the room within. "Welcome to my home."

That's it. He was a fucking vampire.

* * *

><p><em>Hello, did someone say "headcanon?"<em>

_Actor!Arthur is one of my kinks that I don't see ANYWHERE. Especially when he's punk, too. So I had to. I just had to. And some sweet FrUK too._

_Review? And if you can point out any typos you'll get a bowl of the cereal of your choice :D_

_(Edit: OH. And I almost forgot. I have a question for you all. Because of the general lack of female characters in Hetalia, and the fact that later on I'll need more girls for the story, I'm faced with a choice: create OCs or genderbend male characters. Which would you prefer?)_


	5. Chocolate Chip Failure

_I-I can't believe...:D I'm so happy! I got more than twenty reviews on the last chapter alone...oh, you guys are so great! X3_

_Okay, so I lied about the wait time. This chapter came so fast because school has been kind of a joke these first few days because of major flooding and closings. So I've been tucked away at home, writing THIS! _

_So get ready for Ivan's quite botched attempt at a date. It's quite painful, I must tell you. Just so you know in advance._

_(Oh, and so far I've gotten a lot of people who say they'd like me to genderbend characters rather than make OCs. Any objections?)_

* * *

><p>The lack of dead animals and no apparent smell of rat poison or vodka came as a surprise to Alfred. Instead, he found himself standing in a living room not unlike his own. It had been meticulously cleaned quite recently, and he almost swore he saw a bottle of wood polisher before Ivan swiftly carried it away. And then he just stood there, not sure what he should be doing. Was he supposed to sit down? The only friend…and remember, Ivan was <em>not<em> a friend…whose house he went to was Kiku, and since he was there so much he figured he could pretty much act like it was home. Here, he wasn't sure of the etiquette.

He also felt quite uncomfortable knowing that Ivan was just in the next room over, and soon he'd be in the _same_ room, and from there he was probably going to whip out every good insult he could think of. He'd probably lock all the doors and then point out every single one of Alfred's faults, kind of like his cousin had during one of his visits. At least he took solace in the fact that there wouldn't be any surprises should that happen.

A few moments later Ivan entered the living room, Alfred's mouth falling open involuntarily. Because, held in two flowery oven mitts, Ivan had a tray of chocolate chip cookies.

There was just…Alfred had no idea what to make of the situation. He opted to just stand there and stare as the taller boy set it down on the coffee table. In all honesty, it was probably the last thing he'd ever have expected to happen. Literally, the last. He should have made a list, so he could make the last one _"Ivan comes out with a plate of cookies."_ The absurdity was disconcerting.

"Sit," Ivan commanded, nodding toward the couch. Alfred jumped at his voice, immediately rushing to sit down. He only barely remembered to take his backpack off, setting it down in front of him. Then he waited.

The room was pretty well-furnished, and it looked more like something from a fifties sitcom than the house of first-generation immigrants with a crazy son. Speaking of crazies, Alfred wondered if Ivan's younger sister Natalya was anywhere close by. He hoped not, or else he'd have to make some kind of daring jump out the window. That would be such a pain.

As he sat there plotting his escape Alfred saw Ivan come back out with a notebook and that evil smirk. He'd probably spiked the cookies with something, like one of those colorless and tasteless date rape drugs. Then he'd keep Alfred in his closet as a punching bag or some kind of slave labor. That wasn't an appealing thought.

"So," Ivan started, sitting down right next to Alfred. The smaller boy tensed. Ivan had never really hurt him physically but after the cookie thing he wasn't sure what to expect anymore. "I'm glad you came."

"…right…" Alfred mumbled, eyeing the cookies with caution. Oh, did they look good, but he couldn't be sure.

"We have this project to work on, да? What was your topic of choice?" Ivan asked coolly, staring at Alfred intently. Alfred squirmed under his gaze, making sure their eyes didn't meet.

Alfred blinked before he understood the question. Crap. Crap crap shit crap shit. Crap. He hadn't realized it up until now, but he would actually have to tell Ivan his theme. Which was fine with girls, of course. They thought that a guy choosing something like "True Love" was cute. But Ivan…well, it was Ivan. The bully. The asshole. It was the perfect thing for him to rip on. Alfred could always change it. Say it was something else. But he hadn't given much thought to anything else. And he still didn't really know what the story was about.

"Um…what's yours?" he asked nervously, keeping his eyes trained on the cookies. They gave him something to look at instead of Ivan.

The taller boy must have noticed his staring. "You can take one," he said, sliding the tray over a little closer to Alfred. "They're safe."

"I'm okay."

"You're raping them with your eyes, Alfred."

Immediately Alfred flushed brightly, shooting away from Ivan on the couch. The taller boy looked a bit concerned and a bit bewildered. Then the smirk came back. "I'm very sorry. Are they not to your taste?"

"I dunno," Alfred mumbled, hand clutching the armrest of the couch. "They're okay, I guess."

"Then have one."

"Why is it that important?" Alfred tried, fearing Ivan's reaction. "So…what was your theme?" He decided to change the subject.

"If you're worried about your weight I assure you that you aren't _that_ fat."

Alfred felt a pang of that embarrassment he felt whenever Ivan said something of that variety fill his chest. Couldn't he give it a rest for just a few minutes? "You're fat too," he tried to counter, glaring intensely at the cookie menace.

"Here, I'll eat one. Will that settle you?"

"I don't care."

Ivan reached for one of the cookies, eyes trained on Alfred as he brought it to his mouth and took a bite. He chewed and swallowed and the small, cold smile returned. "There. See? No poison."

"Yeah, well, you probably planned that and the rest are…" Alfred trailed off. To his surprise Ivan took another cookie. He broke off a small piece of it, popping it in his mouth before handing Alfred the rest. He made a great show of chewing and swallowing, setting the used cookie on Alfred's thigh. He felt a little tickle and Alfred was almost sure he felt fingers brush his leg a little longer than they needed to. He shivered. Creepy.

But that cookie _did_ look good, and fairly normal, despite having been manhandled by Braginski himself. Alfred, under the watchful gaze of Ivan, picked up the cookie remains and brought them to his mouth. It was still warm and a bit gooey, and the smell almost made his stomach grumble. He hadn't had a good cookie in a long time. Not that anything made by Ivan could be called good, of course.

He took a tentative bite. It tasted okay. Well, it actually tasted pretty damn good. He finished it before he'd even noticed, unaware of the delighted grin on Ivan's face. When he looked up it had reverted back into that goddamn smirk that Alfred wanted to attack him with a bottle of Windex or something.

"Well?"

"It's okay," Alfred said. "So…um…about the project…"

"Of course. What was your topic again?"

Oh God, not this again. He swallowed, biting his lip. "Uh…" he almost whispered. "It's…like…about love and stuff."

"Hm?" Ivan asked. "You really need to work on your mumbling problem."

"Fuck you," Alfred spat back. "It's 'True Love.' What the hell do you have?"

For a moment Ivan's smirk was replace by something else, something Alfred couldn't quite place. It was a bit of surprise and another emotion (not that Ivan really had emotions), a bit like…was that hope? Alfred didn't get a good enough look at it before it was gone.

"Your attempts at hiding your homosexuality are failing, Alfred," Ivan berated him. "It was cute, though. I chose 'Human Nature.'"

Alfred huffed, trying to hide his creeping embarrassment. "Just shut up. You're the gay one."

There was a bit of shifting and before Alfred could react there was a hand on his thigh and breath hot on his ear, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "Maybe I am," Ivan whispered heavily. Alfred's mind froze, and he didn't even comprehend what was happening before he pushed the taller boy away, leaping off of the couch and nearly upending the tray of cookies.

"_What_ the _fuck_?" he cried, eyes wide. His face felt like it was burning and he slapped his hand to his ear. Ivan just smiled.

"You really must learn how to take a joke, Alfred," he said condescendingly. Alfred stared at him.

"I'm leaving," he said quickly, snatching up his backpack. He felt a hand on his wrist, and when his eyes met Ivan's they almost seemed desperate.

"It was a _joke_," Ivan repeated. "Relax and sit back down."

Alfred swallowed and the grip on his wrist tightened, pulling him forward. He snatched it away, sitting down daintily as close to the armrest as possible. It may have been his imagination but he thought he saw Ivan move closer.

"So, we must connect human nature and true love," Ivan said. "Have you ever loved anyone, Alfred?"

"What? Why the hell would I tell _you_?"

"Low self-confidence is nothing to be ashamed of, Alfred," Ivan said, his eyebrows rising. "Even ugly people can find love."

Alfred bit his tongue, willing himself not to just up and leave. He knew that somewhere in the back of his mind he'd been hoping Ivan would be different outside of school. Instead it was like a normal school day multiplied by the time he spent there, sitting on that couch.

"Oh, I heard your date with Emma didn't go as planned," Ivan said brightly. "I hate to say 'I told you so…'"

"Shut _up_," Alfred hissed, clutching at his backpack. He carefully extracted a notebook, just wanting to get this all over with. He sighed. "So…human nature…"

"She was just a whore anyway," Ivan continued. Alfred choked on his own breath, staring up at the taller boy incredulously. Even for him that was harsh.

"What the fuck, man? What's _wrong_ with you?"

"I'm just making small talk. I think the glasses turned her off," Ivan said, tapping the corner of Alfred's frames lightly. "I think they're sweet, but not everyone will…"

"Jesus!" Alfred cried. "I'm leaving!"

"Your father left too, didn't he?" Ivan asked nonchalantly. Alfred froze. Ivan seemed oblivious to the mood. "Were you very sad, Alfred?"

"Shut up," Alfred said weakly. Shit. Not Dad. Ivan couldn't bring that up. _That_ was going too far. To Alfred's dismay he felt his nose stinging.

"Do you know why, Alfred? Was it you or your mother?"

Alfred felt his heart sink and he felt the tears welling up in his eyes. No. He couldn't cry. Not in front of Ivan, not in front of anyone. But _God_, Dad…Ivan was an asshole. Fuck him. Alfred sniffled miserably, biting his lip.

"_Fuck off_," he groaned, arms sliding up to hug himself protectively. Ivan blinked up at him, looking surprised at the reaction. He cocked his head to the side.

"Alfred…are you crying?"

That did it. Alfred's head fell and his chest heaved. This was too much. This whole thing had been a mistake. He _never_ cried, and yet here he was, gasping for breath in Ivan Braginski's living room, tears spilling over and rolling down his face. _Dad_. It was a memory long buried, and leave it to Ivan to bring it back up. Alfred didn't even know how he'd found out.

Alfred still had the dreams sometimes. They were always surreal and distorted but they were always the same. It mostly had to do with baseball, standing up against the fence protecting the dugout. He was going up to bat next. And then an arm, his mother's wrapped around his shoulders. His mother crying. Saying that Daddy had left. Alfred asked where.

Away forever. That was the answer. Maybe if he'd tried harder Daddy would have stayed. His mother gasping, apologizing, saying she didn't mean it. The long car ride home. It didn't matter. The seed was already planted in Alfred's mind.

Ivan didn't move, staring at Alfred intently. "…I'm sorry," he tried, acting as though he'd never seen anything like this before. "Was it something I said?"

Alfred snapped. "No shit!" he cried, snatching up his backpack and dashing for the door.

His fingers fumbled for his phone, searching through blurry eyes for Kiku's number. _fuckin ivan. leaving. _He typed the words in clumsily, nearly running down the steps and onto the sidewalk.

Ivan just stared from the door as Alfred left, expression unreadable. Then, looking down, he slowly closed the door. When Natalya got home later that afternoon she saw an overturned coffee table and cookies scattered around the living room floor. A notebook was open on the couch, and written in tight, scrawled letters were the words _"True love_."

* * *

><p>Alfred was curled up on Kiku's bed, thumbs lazily darting over a game controller as he stared apathetically at the screen. Kiku was doing his homework at his desk as Alfred mindlessly chopped through trolls and other monsters. The only light came from the television screen but Kiku didn't complain.<p>

"What did he say?" Kiku asked lightly, setting down his pen and turning to Alfred. The other boy's expression darkened.

"He brought up Dad," Alfred said, voice low as he slashed through another ogre. Ten experience points.

"Ah," Kiku said simply, getting up to sit next to his friend. "It isn't your fault."

"I know," Alfred said simply. He grimaced a bit as he attacked a monster as quickly as possible. His character died anyway and he set the controller down.

"You don't have to work with him if you really don't want to," Kiku offered, crossing his legs. He always stayed at a comfortable distance.

"He probably thinks I'm an idiot now," Alfred sighed. "I mean, I fucking _cried_ and everything."

"It will be fine," Kiku assured him. "You must remember it was probably not as important to him. He will forget."

"It still sucks."

"It does," Kiku agreed. Alfred liked that about him. He didn't always try to make everything better, and sometimes the best remedy for sadness was empathy instead of solutions. Alfred smiled a little.

"It's all cool now, I guess," Alfred said with a shrug. "No big deal."

Then he jumped. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and immediately he whipped it out and snapped it open. Kiku's eyes widened.

"Admirer?"

"Sunflower," Alfred corrected as his eyes ran over the message.

_I'm sorry. I hope it went well. Is he that bad, though?_

"Um, yeah," Alfred said as Kiku finished reading. "He is."

_hes an sshole who cant shut up, _Alfred wrote. For a moment he debated putting in something about what had been said but he figured Sunflower wouldn't really care. _can u tell me stuff about u? jus wanna know_

"Tomorrow is Friday," Kiku said. "Then you have the whole weekend. It should be fine."

"But how am I gonna work on the project?"

Kiku took a deep breath. "Maybe you could give Ivan a second chance."

"Nuh uh," Alfred asserted, shaking his head. "He crossed into no man's land. No comin' back now."

"Maybe he didn't know."

"Yeah, but you don't just bring up someone's _Dad_ leaving, y'know? You just don't."

"_Maybe he didn't know_."

Alfred scratched his head. "What do you mean?"

"Ivan isn't a social person. Maybe he just didn't know."

Alfred blinked. "Whoa. Really?"

"I don't know," Kiku admitted. "But he may have thought it was acceptable."

"Why're you suddenly taking his side now?"

Kiku sighed sharply. "I'm not taking any sides. I'm just telling you what I feel."

Alfred thought about this for a moment. "But now he kinda _knows_ what…I mean…he has something on me now." That wouldn't be good. Not good at all. The last thing Alfred needed was every schmuck in the school asking him about his Dad like they knew shit about it.

"That's too low, even for him," Kiku said, and for some reason Alfred agreed.

It wasn't like Alfred had never seen his father again. Once the initial shock had worn off he'd called and they'd figured stuff out. Divorce wasn't a big deal these days. He still saw his Dad regularly. A weekend here, a vacation there. But it wasn't the same.

He didn't really have a right to be complaining, though, not after seeing Kiku's family. It was really kind of mangled beyond recognition. Kiku never even met his father and his cousin Li's mother had died giving birth to him. Even more strange relations abounded with distant cousins from Vietnam and long-lost relatives scattered as far as India.

Whenever Alfred thought about how much his family sucked he just had to remind himself of his friend. It was good therapy, even if it was kind of at Kiku's expense. Either way it helped.

They talked a bit more about less important things, and then Alfred fell asleep on the rug. Kiku laid a blanket over him and then went to bed.

* * *

><p><em>I'll tell you if you'll answer a question for me. Do you hate Ivan?<em>

_um idk. like kinda. not really, i guess_

_Why not?_

_well hes the 1 who hates me_

_Are you sure?_

_hes always sayin stuff that ticks me off_

_Does it make you sad?_

_idk. kinda _

_Okay. What do you want to know about me?_

* * *

><p>Alfred walked into gym the next day quite wary of what might happen. If Kiku was wrong and Ivan had spread Alfred's moment of sensitivity around then his life was sure to be hell. If he hadn't…well, that was very unlikely. So Alfred treaded carefully, not sure if he should brave the locker room or not.<p>

He'd also been trying to decide what he should ask Sunflower. Should he ask about what color her hair was? Or what she liked to do? Or maybe something deep like _why_ she liked him? Or if? His mind was a blur of rapid thought.

That thought was broken, however, as the Coach's booming voice rang through the gym.

"Hey, all you idiots!"

The noise of basketballs and yelling died down as the Coach strode into the middle of the gym. "Right _right_! So we're starting a new unit here! From now on we're playing _football_…" some cheers "…otherwise known as _soccer_ to you little American assholes!"

The Coach was probably the only teacher who could get away with any kind of profanity. It was mostly because Mr. Zwingli had given up on reforming him a long time ago and now just preferred to pretend that he didn't exist. And if that meant that the Coach got to say whatever the hell he wanted, it was fine by him.

"Aaand, because it's getting kinda chilly outside and you pussies can't _handle_ it, we're playin' in the gym!" He took out a soccer ball tucked under his arm and tossed it in the air off to one side. "I'm also feeling lazy today so you guys make up teams and shit!"

Alfred found himself sinking into the background, leaning against the gym doors. Maybe if he didn't say anything he wouldn't be forced to play. Because then, of course, he'd be forced to kick everyone's asses and make them cry, and he didn't want to do that. It wouldn't be fair to the other team.

He watched the game for a moment, eyes glazing over as his thoughts of Sunflower and Ivan continued. So far nobody seemed to be making any references to his crying or his Dad, so it seemed like Kiku had been right. He usually was.

It happened in an instant, and Alfred didn't have time to cry out. The door he was leaning on swung open, catching him off guard. He lost his balance, falling backwards. His eyes went wide and he barely had time to squeak out a cry for help before he landed in someone's arms and a hand was clamped firmly over his mouth. The door clicked shut.

"What the hell?" he tried to call out but instead it came out as a muffled mess. Then he heard that voice, the one that made him freeze.

"Forgive me, мой Алфредка. We need to talk."

* * *

><p><em>...at least Alfred got a cookie out of it.<em>

_Review? And if you can point out any typos I'll give you a plate of bacon :D_


	6. GET DOWN FROM THERE!

_Hej, my pretties! That was hi in Danish, because Denmark (the Coach) is going to be important in this chapter ;) And I'm learning Danish and I want to show off :/_

_You people with your reviews and your *makes incoherent cute noises* I love you all so much! Like seriously! You people all make my life X3_

_Oh, and I got a question about what Ivan says to Alfred in some of the previous chapters. So, in case you were curious, it was "Мой Алфредка," which is transliterated to "Moy Alfredka." That means "My Alfred," and Alfred's name is in the diminutive. That means Ivan is not only calling Alfred his but it's also a lot more personal. A little bit like the suffix "-chan" in Japanese. Kind of._

_Anyway, enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Alfred almost froze solid as he was dragged back. His feet struggled to keep up as they pedaled backward, and when he was finally released he stumbled a little. Then there was the click of a door, jerking Alfred out of his shock. Ivan turned what sounded like a lock and Alfred's eyes snapped to him in shock.<p>

"What the hell?" he finally shouted, backing up a little. They were in a room that looked like an office, entirely deserted save for the fish swimming around in the tank by the wall. "_What the hell?"_

"I need to speak with you," Ivan explained, standing in front of the door protectively. Alfred's eyes widened.

"Then fucking_ talk _to me, don't _kidnap_ me!"

"Alfred," Ivan said, voice a bit softer. "If you don't keep your voice down someone will hear you."

"That's what I'm _trying_ to do!" Alfred yelled. "Hey! Help!"

"_Alfred_," Ivan scolded, clamping a hand over the shorter boy's mouth. "I will return you when we're done."

"Fuck that," Alfred said, heading for the door. "I'm gonna go fucking return myself right now."

He tried to push past Ivan, but hands clamped on his shoulders and pushed him back. He slapped at them, growling. The grip tightened, though, thumbs biting painfully into his collarbone. Alfred stopped, trying to pull away. Ivan let him go and he backed up again.

"_What?_" he demanded.

Ivan took a deep breath. He looked different now, very much unlike his usual self. His eyes were cast down and instead of smirking his face was blank, if not a bit worried-looking. He bit his lip, as though trying to puzzle through something in his head.

"I'm sorry," he finally said. Alfred blinked, momentarily taken off guard. Ivan, apologizing? For what? Everything? One occasion? For kidnapping him? Was this what was so important that he had to literally grab Alfred out of class to say it?

"Um…" Alfred began, unsure of what to say. Ivan cut him off, continuing.

"I'm very sorry, and if I made you sad yesterday in any way I…" Ivan trailed off, looking unsurely at Alfred. "Please forgive me."

Alfred honestly couldn't believe what he was hearing. He couldn't. It just didn't process in his brain. Screw the cookies, if there was one thing that would be on the _very bottom_ of his "Things Ivan Would Probably Do" list, apologizing for making Alfred _sad_ would be it. That and making that face, the one he was making now. It was too vulnerable, too unconfident for Ivan. It had to be a joke. He had to be playing Alfred with all this.

"What do you care?" Alfred bit back. Ivan sighed.

"I…" he pursed his lips. "You're right. I suppose I don't."

"…good," Alfred asserted. He felt quite uncomfortable in this situation. "So I'm going back."

He tried to go past Ivan again but was stopped a second time. "But I do," Ivan said. "I do."

"Ha ha, funny, no you don't," Alfred said, trying to pry Ivan's body away from the door. "And anyway, I don't care."

"What?" Ivan blinked. "You don't care," he repeated.

"Hell no, 'cause I got a girlfriend, and no matter what you say I don't give a crap anymore." Okay, so maybe it was stretching the truth a little. Maybe Sunflower wasn't exactly his girlfriend. Maybe he didn't know exactly who she was. As far as he cared it counted enough to tell off Ivan. Huh. He found it kind of funny that besides Kiku Ivan was the only one he'd told.

He wasn't expecting Ivan's reaction.

"_What?"_ he cried, hands shooting up to grip Alfred's shoulders. Alfred jumped, eyes widening. "_Who?"_

"U-um…" Alfred stuttered, swallowing. "Just this…uh…girl…"

"_Who is it?"_ Ivan hissed, leaning in so he was almost nose-to-nose with Alfred. The shorter shrunk away, truly worried for the first time.

"Nobody important!" Alfred cried, pushing Ivan away. The taller boy's face fell, and he looked at his feet. There was a moment of silence.

"What is her name?" Ivan asked suddenly, and when he looked up his face was pleasantly blank again. It was eerie, though, and Alfred took a step back.

"I'm not telling you."

"_Please_, Alfred."

"Maybe if you weren't such a dick all the time I _might_," Alfred hissed, crossing his arms protectively. He was starting to tread on dangerous ground here, although with how Ivan had been acting these past few minutes he had gained a bit of confidence.

Ivan opened his mouth as if to say something. Then he snapped it shut, hands balling into fists. Alfred took yet another step backward, the backs of his thighs hitting a desk. Ivan came toward him and for a moment he honestly considered hopping up on the desk and climbing over it. Just in case.

"I thought I got rid of Emma," he said, almost too quietly to hear. Alfred's eyes widened farther than he'd ever thought they could go.

"What did you do to Emma?" he demanded, mouth falling open. Ivan shook his head.

"I didn't know she was allergic to peanuts," Ivan said, as though to himself. "She didn't eat enough for the morphine to work."

Alfred barely understood what Ivan was saying. "You _poisoned _her?"

"Not entirely."

"I don't fucking _believe _you!" Alfred yelled. Then he thought about what he'd just said and edited it. "No, actually, I do! You're still just an asshole, no matter what the hell you're doing!"

Ivan's eyes narrowed. "Is it her?"

"Nope."

"Then who?"

"No."

"Tell me."

"Nuh uh."

Ivan lunged forward, grabbing the front of Alfred's shirt. Alfred cried out, hands coming to protect his face. Ivan had never hit him, not once, but as he'd said before there was a first time for everything.

"_Tell me_."

Ivan's eyes were dangerous and Alfred decided he'd pushed it too far. He'd only been digging himself into a hole this entire time, and now he'd made Ivan angry. And a pissed Ivan meant only bad things.

"Okay, so I don't know her name!" he yelped. "She wants me to call her 'Sunflower!'"

Ivan froze. He stayed that way a long time, mouth slightly parted as he stared at Alfred in what looked to be disbelief. Then he relaxed his grip on Alfred's shirt, letting it go and stepping back.

"Your girlfriend." He backed all the way into the door, eyes still wide. Then, just as suddenly as he'd come, Ivan ripped the door open and ducked away. Alfred heard his footsteps echoing down the hallway as he left, leaving the shorter boy in a bit of shock.

He realized that he was clutching the edge of the desk so tightly that his knuckles were white, so he let go and shook out his hands. The room seemed so empty now, and although no lights had been turned on or off it felt darker. It had been so sudden, both his capture and his release, that he figured he was bound to get whiplash soon. That is, if Ivan's mood swings didn't kill him first.

As he peeked through the door and then started back for gym, he only had one thing on his mind. Well, two, actually. Why was Ivan acting so weird? And what did he know about Sunflower to make him act like that?

* * *

><p>Alfred didn't play in gym that day. It wasn't a rare occurrence; it was really his worst class. His participation had dropped so far that there were times it had threatened to be the only class he failed. Today was not one of his "Oh! I really want to play soccer!"days. Come to think of it, he'd never had a day like that. Huh.<p>

The Coach noticed. Since he wasn't doing much else, Alfred figured the teacher was going to come over to give him some kind of lecture on his lack of motivation. The man jogged over, axe necklace bouncing on his chest.

"Hey, Jonsie. Whatcha doing?"

"Sitting."

"You sure are," the Coach said, nodding. "You're supposed to be playing."

"I don't…" Alfred shrugged. "I dunno. I'm just kinda thinking."

Then, to Alfred's surprise, the Coach crouched down, coming eye to eye with the high schooler. "I know that face," he said, sticking out his tongue a little as he examined Alfred. "Girl trouble?"

Alfred blinked and then nodded. The Coach sighed sympathetically, spinning around to sit against the bleachers with Alfred. Oh no. This wasn't going to be one of those talks, was it?

"Girls kinda suck," the Coach said. "But it doesn't matter 'cause you love 'em, am I right?"

Alfred shrugged. "I guess. I mean…I don't really know who she is…"

"She the one who pasted that thing on my wall?"

Alfred nodded, reaching into his pocket to take out his phone. There were no messages, and he knew there were none, but he still checked anyway.

"You got any—HEY! FOUL!—you got any guesses?"

Alfred jumped at the booming yell before understanding what the question was about. "I dunno."

"Any clues?"

Alfred shrugged again, wondering why the hell the Coach was taking his time to have this kind of conversation. Maybe he was like some kind of secret counselor or Sex and the City addict or something.

"Um…Ivan kinda freaked out when he found out."

"_Braginski?_ Takes a lot to freak him out. Think it's his sister?"

Alfred stopped, turning to the Coach in shock. The man was grinning, his blue eyes sparkling. It was a thought that Alfred had never, not even once, considered. And, thinking back on it, it made so much sense. And yet so little.

Natalya was always hanging around Ivan, so she might have seen Alfred and decided she liked him. It was a long shot, but always possible. She was also the kind to stalk and send notes and put up creepy banners and stuff, and not actually talk to him face-to-face. And then maybe Ivan was jealous and stuff, and he invited Alfred over to try to scare him off and _oh shit it was perfect_.

And she was really, really hot.

"Uh…"

"GET THE FUCK DOWN FROM THERE, BEILSCHMIDT!" the Coach shouted. Alfred bit his lip. "Don't tell anyone I said that, though. Don't want Zwing-o thinking I'm meddling or something."

"Right," Alfred said, still deep in thought. "Thanks."

"Any time," the Coach said, hopping up to his feet. "Now you should probably start playing unless you wanna fail."

And so he did, newfound thoughts of Natalya Braginskaya floating around his head.

* * *

><p>"…and so then I went back to gym and the Coach said he thought it might be Ivan's sister. You know her? The one with the really long hair and the glares and stuff? So I was thinking he might be right, and maybe I should go talk to her. Whaddaya think?"<p>

Kiku sat patiently through Alfred's whole description of his morning as they stood beside their lockers. It was already a little past the start of third period, but after the earlier events Alfred wasn't so keen on seeing Ivan right away. Kiku seemed to be fine with being a few minutes late to class, not that he'd have shown it if he wasn't.

"I'm not sure," Kiku said slowly. "If you're wrong she might kill you."

"But it all just _fits_, you know? And so far I don't got any other leads."

"You could…try…" Kiku allowed. "But I'm coming with you."

"Awww," Alfred whined. "But what if she does like me and she wants to kiss or something?"

"If it bothers you I'll look away."

"Yeah, but…you'd be, like…_there_, and stuff…" Alfred knew where he was going with that but it hadn't come out right. He clutched his books closer.

Kiku's eyebrows shot up. "Think of the alternative, Alfred-kun. Say, just for example, it turns out she _isn't_ interested in you. Say, instead, she comes after you with a knife. What would you do then?"

Alfred seemed to contemplate this for a moment before shrugging. "I dunno. Probably run or something. Like jump out a window."

"I could be there to help in case something goes wrong. Which is what will most likely happen."

"'Cause you did all that karate stuff," Alfred said as the realization came. "I get where you're going with this. Hey, you could be, like, my bodyguard or something!"

"When are you going to talk to her?"

"I dunno. Next time I see her?"

"I can't follow you around all day," Kiku said, pursing his lips. Alfred nodded.

"Okay. So…I'll go…right after school sound good?"

Kiku nodded and Alfred broke out into a grin. "Awesome."

"Now get to class," Kiku ordered, voice only a bit playful. Alfred snapped to attention, giving a bit of an awkward salute around the textbook.

"Sir, yes sir!" Then he marched off down the hallway, having completely forgotten for the moment that Ivan would be there. Kiku watched him for a moment before shaking his head and starting off in the opposite direction.

When Alfred strutted into class about fifteen minutes late with no hall pass and no excuse, his buzz was immediately killed by Ms. Héderváry, who was not amused. The explanation that he'd been talking with a very important friend about very important matters by their lockers was not accepted either, and so Alfred missed the most of English he had all year, sent down to the office to explain himself yet again. He also didn't see Ivan, who actually had the valid excuse of having been in the Nurse's office, walk into class just after he'd left only to see a room devoid of Alfred and no answers.

Naturally, he blamed himself.

* * *

><p>Because of the fact that Alfred's crime hadn't been very severe and that Mr. Zwingli was tired (no doubt from all the acting), he got off with just a slap on the wrist. He was sent back to class after receiving a quick talking-to about priorities and the dangers of loitering in the halls. As he left he managed to sneak in a wink at the dean's secretary, an old woman who didn't talk much. She just rolled her eyes.<p>

The hallway was empty as Alfred went back down to English class. It was kind of eerie, and he felt like he should be there. The door that was his destination was over at the end, and as he passed by all the different rooms he managed to peek inside at the students. Most of the time they didn't pay him any mind but in one room he saw some big guy mouth something that looked remarkably like "Hey, Alfie."

When he reached the English room he pushed open the door and slipped inside. Ms. Héderváry was saying something about magic and gods or something like that, every so often looking over to read from a textbook open on her desk. Alfred crept over to his desk after depositing a hall pass next to the book, barely noticing Ivan's absence.

"So, Gilbert," Ms. Héderváry said, looking over at the boy in question, the one who'd been attempting to climb the backboard of the basketball hoop during gym. "To recap. What happened to Cupid when he tried to follow Venus's orders?"

Gilbert sighed dramatically before letting his eyes dart around the room as he thought. "He fucked up and shot himself."

"Language."

"Right. Sorry, Miss H."

"It's fine. Now, what were Venus's orders?"

"Um…to shoot that one girl."

Ms. Héderváry nodded encouragingly. Another hand shot up but she waved it away, focused on getting an answer from Gilbert. "Why?"

"'Cause she was too hot. Kinda like you, Miss H," Gilbert said with a sly smile. Ms. Héderváry rolled her eyes.

"Gilbert," she scolded. "Venus thought Psyche was too beautiful—" at this Ms. Héderváry flipped her own long brown hair "—and she became enraged, jealous that a mere mortal could look more _fabulous_ than she did."

There were times when Ms. H would get very involved in whatever she was teaching and she'd go a bit overboard with the description. Apparently this was shaping up to be one of those times. Gilbert looked like he was eating the whole thing up. His fake crush on the English teacher was well-known, and he kept to it like it had been a mission. Not a day went by that he didn't use to flirt with her.

"So, she sent Cupid to…" Ms. Héderváry scanned the room for her next victim. "Mr. Jones?"

Alfred jerked to attention, blinking. "Huh?"

"What did Venus send Cupid to do?"

"Um…" Crap. He should have read more. He'd gotten the basic gist of the story but hadn't read up on the specifics. "Get rid of her?"

"Kind of. Anyone else?"

A hand shot up and the answer came right after it with no hesitation. "He was supposed to go shoot her with one of his arrows to make her fall in love with some ugly monster thing."

"Exactly. And instead…"

"He hit himself and fell in love with her."

Alfred zoned out somewhere in the middle, preferring to stare out the window at the browning leaves of the maple tree outside. His eyes started up at the top, slowly falling down until he was almost leaning to the side to see the rest as it continued down to the first floor of the building. He could barely see down past the bottom branches from his seat deep within the room.

A leaf fluttered down and he lost sight of it behind the trunk just before his vision was cut off by the bottom of the window.

He'd be talking to Natalya today and figuring this whole thing out. And for the first time in a long time he felt peaceful.

* * *

><p>"Ready?"<p>

Kiku nodded, backpack neatly centered on his back. Then he and Alfred started down the hallway, to where they knew Natalya's locker was. Alfred was feeling considerably more nervous than before. No, scratch that, he felt like his stomach was about to take the place of his heart and lungs and whatever else was up in your chest. Unless your stomach was too. Because in that case…screw it, he was freaking out.

"So…um…what do you think I should say? I mean, should I just go up to her and ask her or what? I don't think I ever talked to her before and what if I'm wrong? I mean I don't think I am but I don't know what I think anymore and maybe she actually hates me or what if it _was_ some of those guys just trying to mess with me and what if the Coach is in on it too and he wanted me to do this and Natalya's going to kill me or something?" Alfred rambled.

"Relax," Kiku said calmly. "It will be fine."

"I hope so," Alfred worried, biting his lip. And then, there she was.

Natalya stopped at her locker, tossing her head a little to flip her hair over her shoulder. Even through the crowd she was stunning. Alfred clutched the shoulder strap on his backpack just a little tighter, pushing his glasses up his nose. Then, sighing sharply, he strode forward, Kiku not far behind.

He leaned against the wall next to her open locker, smiling a little. "Hi," he tried, hoping to God his voice sounded convincing.

"What do you want?"

Alfred's heart sank. "Um…I just kind of wanted to…uh…ask you…I'm Alfred," he said, extending his hand. Natalya stared at it for a moment before snorting and turning back to her locker. She then set back to work tucking her books into a shoulder bag.

"I know who you are."

Alfred's eyes brightened. "You do?"

"Ivan won't shut up about you." She turned to him, glaring intensely. "I can't see why."

"…oh…" Alfred didn't know what to make of that. "I just…um…I wanted to ask you if…does the word 'Sunflower' mean anything…um…special? To you?" He glanced nervously to Kiku, who flashed him a thumbs-up.

Natalya stopped. "You can stop going after my brother. He's mine."

Alfred's jaw fell open and Natalya grimaced. "What? No! That's…no!"

"Ivan loves sunflowers," Natalya snapped. "Any _schmuck_ knows _that_. Now get out of my face and leave my brother alone."

Alfred watched in silence as Natalya slammed her locker shut and sauntered off. He looked down, closing his eyes. Kiku came over, setting a comforting hand on Alfred's shoulder.

"Good job."

There was a long pause. "Whatever," Alfred said, sighing. "I give up." He swallowed thickly, kicking at the ground. "I'm going home."

And so he did.

* * *

><p><em>Aww, Nat, why so mean?<em>

_Review? And if you can point out any typos I'll write you a song or something._


	7. Let's go Shopping!

_Privyet, my pretties! Here I have written another chapter for your reading pleasure. Use it well._

_Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I suppose the song thing was some good motivation, 'cause you guys were pointing out typos left and right XD Many thanks all around!_

_And one more thing before I start...Katyusha, PLEASE GIVE ME SOME WAY TO RESPOND TO YOU. Your review are always so lovely but they're anonymous so I can't thank you personally. ;)_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>When Alfred woke up it was almost noon and he still hadn't figured out what to ask Sunflower. His mind had been racing with thoughts about how Ivan could be connected to it all, why he'd acted how he had and if he knew anything important about Alfred's mystery admirer. In all honesty, Alfred couldn't wrap his head around the whole thing. It was too strange.<p>

"Alfred! Are you dressed?"

Alfred groaned, rolling over. No, he wasn't dressed. He was barely awake and had far too much to contemplate to get ready and go wherever his mother wanted to drag him. Probably shoe shopping or getting his first bra or something else his mother would probably do.

"Noooo…" he called back, closing his eyes again.

"Then get that way! We're leaving in an hour!"

Alfred sighed, hand slapping up to his face to messily scratch his cheek. Then he took a deep breath, forcing himself to sit up. He really, really didn't want to. His hair must have been sticking up something awful. Not that he cared.

"'Kay!" he yelled weakly. For a moment he almost flopped back down to continue sleeping. Then, using all his early-morning strength, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, resting his hands on his knees. His eyes were still thick with sleep and as he tried to clear him he heard footsteps coming up the stairs.

A moment later his mother opened the door a crack and poked her head through."Are you getting ready?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said sleepily, punctuating it with a yawn. She smiled a little.

"We have to do some cleaning later too. Matthew's coming tomorrow. We got the time all figured out. Are you excited?"

Alfred's ears perked at the mention of his cousin. He nodded emphatically. His mother checked her thin watch before looking back up to him. "Fifty-eight minutes," she reminded playfully before ducking back and closing the door with a light click.

Alfred's mother had never been a very serious person. She wasn't completely crazy or out there but she did have a little spark of ridiculousness that popped up every now and again. That was one of the things that made Alfred assert that she was the best mother possible. Even after…well, even after his Dad left she'd kept her spark, or maybe she'd gotten it back.

Alfred eventually got himself up and he trudged over to the bathroom. The shower gave him some extra time to think, at least. He sighed contentedly as the first spray of water hit his head, the sudden warmth sending a shiver down his spine. He just stood there under the water for a moment, letting it wake him up.

When he was finished he stepped out, pausing in front of the mirror for a moment. It was almost completely fogged up so he wiped away some of the condensation, examining himself. As his eyes swept across his skinny, pale frame he just had to wonder what anyone could see in him. What did Sunflower like about him? What was there to like?

When Alfred was in the seventh grade he'd tried to join the wrestling team. He'd worked out and exercised with all the rest of the guys but unlike them he hated every minute of it. He lost every match he played and now all he was left with were the remnants of his old, more muscular, physique.

He decided there was no use wondering about these things while on a time limit so he dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist for the short trip back to his bedroom. Since it was usually just him and his Mom in the house at any given time (and she usually stayed within a few select rooms) he was pretty free to do what he wanted. It wasn't like he waltzed around in his birthday suit but he could be known to go about his weekend in just a little less than usual. What was the use of dirtying clothing he could just use for school the next week? Anyway, this was all beside the point, because he still had no idea what he was going to ask Sunflower or why his mother was taking him shopping.

Alfred got dressed quickly; he liked a little bit of time after he woke up to relax and eat something. Except on school days, during which he had been known to sleep in until just a few minutes before the late bell rang. His mother had eventually resorted to bursting into his room with a pot and a spatula.

"We need to get some things for Matthew," his mother said as he entered the kitchen. She was seated at the table, clipping pictures of Darth Vader out of a Star Wars coloring book.

He stared for a moment before understanding not only what had been said but also what his mother was doing. So they'd need supplies, and she was making another one of her collages. After the eighth or so compilation of random movie stars or fruit Alfred had given up on trying to figure out what his Mom pasted onto that coffee table in her bedroom. A few years before she'd started this project, which was to create some kind of multi-colored collage object. And apparently that poor, defenseless table had taken the brunt of the attacks. Pictures of curtains and cigarette advertisements and whatever else Alfred's mother could find in magazines were all glued onto the now useless table in every way imaginable. Alfred stayed away from it most of the time.

"What else are we getting?" Alfred asked, searching for some kind of cereal.

"I was thinking that we could get some books too. You know they just opened up that new bookstore at the mall. Didn't you say you wanted that new edition of whatever-it-is you're reading?"

Alfred's eyes lit up at the prospect of having comics bought for him. He nodded, pouring some kind of knockoff frosted cereal into a bowl. "Kiku wanted to get some manga too. Can he come?"

"I don't know…" Alfred's mother said apprehensively. "I think Mei said that he was going somewhere this weekend."

Mei was Kiku's mother, far too young-looking to have son of his age. She was more often than not out on some kind of business trip, leaving Kiku in her brother Yao's care. It wasn't really unusual, at least not for that family. At times it was impossible to tell how any of the members were related. They were just a family, unbiased by certain familial ties. Alfred was jealous sometimes.

"Right. That conference thingy." Kiku had told Alfred he'd be going on this Youth Leadership conference trip one of these weekends, but Alfred had conveniently forgotten. Anyway, it quickly dampened Alfred's spirits to know that he'd be without his friend for a whole weekend. Their respective parents always said it was like they were joined at the hip. Alfred had long wondered if that was actually possible, and if so how much it would cost.

"I think so. Are you ready?" Alfred's mother asked. Her son answered with a bite of cereal, sighing a little.

She continued cutting up the Darth Vader pictures, arranging them on the table in what was probably going to be the pattern she used on the table. Alfred silently wished them luck before they were brought to their final resting place on that damn coffee table.

_Maybe I could ask her…her last name? _Alfred wondered, his thoughts invariably turning back to Sunflower in the lull in conversation. _How old she is? What kind of music she likes?_ He kept coming up with nothing he thought was useful. All the questions seemed so mundane, like he was wasting the time he had to figure this out.

He thought back to before, when he'd been watching himself in the mirror. What could Sunflower possibly see in him? What did she like about him?

…that was it.

Alfred whipped out his ever-present cell phone, typing the number in quickly before trying to decide how to word the message. "What do you like about me?" sounded pretentious. "Is there anything in particular you like about me?" sounded like he was groveling.

Finally the words came and he typed them in letter by letter. Alfred even wrote in complete sentences this time. He wanted this to count.

_Why do you like me?_

* * *

><p>"We're going to need some more toilet paper, some dinner options for the next few days, and do you have an extra pillow we can give him? We need some more shampoo…Alfred, are you getting all this?"<p>

Alfred scribbled away on the small pad of paper, nodding as he did. His mother smiled curtly before continuing.

"We might need some juice too. And bottles of water…are you boys planning to go camping like usual? When's Matthew's birthday? I thought it was soon…we need to get him a present too," Alfred's mother dictated. Alfred wrote the final words, examining his handwriting to make sure it was legible.

"Got it," he said.

"Good. Now, let us go forth!" Alfred's mother cried, opening her car door and stepping out. "Don't forget to lock it," she reminded Alfred as he got out as well. Then, with a mission to accomplish they set off unto the large mall.

The mall had been built in Alfred's lifetime, the new self-proclaimed shopping center of town. And it lived up to its name. Nearly all day the building was packed with people just looking for stuff, from the grocery store that had been built in between the clothing and video game stores to the hairdresser's at the other end. There was even a man who set up shop in the center of the floor, selling tie-dyed shirts that he made right there.

The reason that Alfred usually wanted to come to the mall was to shop for video games. It was one of his great pastimes, and he and Kiku could spend hours just perusing the new stock of video games for the picking. They were on a first-name basis with the calm manager, a young man by the name of Herakles.

Today, however, Alfred didn't have an opportunity to go look for any new games. His mother dragged him into the grocery store, and he was made to carry all the food she piled on him. During their shopping his phone buzzed, signaling an answer from Sunflower. Carefully setting down the bread and chips he was carrying at the moment he looked at the reply, a small smile touching his lips. As his eyes ran over the words, though, he felt his heart sink.

_I don't like you_.

Well, there went Alfred's week.

He sighed, looking down. Then he typed out a quick _oh_ and snapped his phone shut. His chest suddenly felt thick, and his mother had to remind him to pick up the food again. She didn't seem to notice his sudden change in mood.

So…so Sunflower didn't like him. The thing that hurt the most was really that this had been expected. He'd known, somehow, that this was all going to turn out to be some big misunderstanding. And here it was, the proof that he'd been right all along. Or maybe not. Maybe he was just saying that to make himself feel better. Maybe he'd actually had a little faith in this.

Alfred sighed, going through the motions of collecting whatever his mother decided they needed and toting it around. He wanted to go talk to Kiku. He really should have been expecting this more. She probably just wanted to be friends, or just talk or something.

Alfred didn't say anything as he followed his mother around the store. All he could think was that he should have known this would happen. That he had known. Soon his arms were full of this and that and his mother decided they were done. They were getting ready to check out when Alfred saw him.

His eyes widened as they met Ivan walking along behind the cash registers, coming directly for him. Or maybe it was just his imagination. Maybe Ivan hadn't even seen him. Maybe…oh, crap. This really was the best day ever, wasn't it?

"Hello, Alfred," Ivan greeted as always. Alfred's mother looked up in surprise, her face brightening as she saw the taller boy.

"Hel_lo_," she said with a smile, "Are you one of Alfred's friends?"

Alfred shook his hands back and forth in a silent _NO. _Ivan glanced at him, smiling sickly before nodding.

"Yes," he said lightly. "We are the best of friends. I was actually wondering if I could borrow him for a moment. We need to have word."

"No!" Alfred cried, surprising his mother. "I mean, we have to go get some other stuff, right? Like…"

"Oh, don't be that way," Alfred's mother said condescendingly. "Go on. I'll go get the rest by myself."

"_Mom_…"

"Go. Have fun. Don't worry about me."

Alfred bit his lip, turning to Ivan. Fun. Right. The taller boy's trademark smirk was sitting there on his face, as always. But there was something else behind it. A bit of worry, maybe. After their last meeting Alfred really wouldn't put anything past Ivan. A moment later he felt a hand around his wrist and he was being led away. His mother waved a little and Alfred just swallowed thickly.

"Please do not worry, Alfred," Ivan said smoothly. "And please close your mouth."

Alfred snapped his jaw shut in embarrassment, not realizing it had been open in the first place. Ivan nearly dragged him out of the grocery store and into the rest of the mall. Then he stopped by the wall, finally letting Alfred go.

"You gotta stop doing that," Alfred hissed, rubbing his wrist for effect. Ivan sighed.

"I'm very sorry for my behavior earlier," Ivan said.

"Just stop apologizing for everything. It's freaking me out."

"Please accept my apologies, then," Ivan countered. Alfred looked down.

"Why the hell are you acting so weird all of a sudden?" he asked darkly.

Ivan seemed surprised at this. "What?"

"You've been all normal and stuff lately." Alfred looked up, eyes hard. "What are you trying to do?"

"I…" Ivan didn't seem to have an answer to this. "I've been acting perfectly fine."

"No," Alfred corrected. "_Fine_ would mean making me feel like _shit _every day. What's up?"

Ivan seemed to take a long time to answer. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes in thought. Then, after what seemed like forever, he looked at Alfred, face calm. "I want to be your friend."

Alfred's mouth fell open again. He couldn't help it. He wasn't even sure how he managed to remain standing. "My _friend?_" he repeated, eyes widening.

"The way I treated you before upset you, so I'm trying something new," Ivan explained. Alfred was completely speechless. "If you don't want to…"

Alfred just stared at Ivan, trying to imagine _how _in the _hell_ Ivan was actually saying this. It had to be some kind of dream, or a prank, or maybe he was being filmed or…for two and a half years Ivan had been nothing but an asshole to Alfred and now he was just ditching it all and hoping things could be all hunky-dory?

"Please," Ivan said, voice softer. Alfred pursed his lips, shrugging.

"Whatever. You're still a dick."

Ivan's face lit up. "So we can be friends?" he asked hopefully. Alfred shrugged again.

"I said whatever. I don't get what you're trying to do here but...y'know. It's kinda a hero thing to do, I guess." The words slipped out before Alfred realized what he'd said. Shit. Hero. He thought he'd gotten over that a long time ago, but apparently not. "But you can't just suddenly _be_ friends with someone. You gotta make 'em want to be your friend." Which, Alfred didn't say, means not dragging someone around to have deep conversations with them. Especially when they didn't particularly like you.

"A heroic thing indeed," Ivan said with a smile. Alfred coughed into his hand, looking away. "What should I do?"

"Well, you can stop looking at me like I'm some kinda science project first."

Ivan immediately looked away, gaze shooting down to the floor like it was the most interesting thing he'd seen all day. Alfred's eyebrows furrowed. "Not like that."

Ivan blinked at him, confused. "Like what, then?"

This was just too weird. At any moment Alfred expected Ivan to throw one of his usual jabs or insult him or _something_. And just standing here with the looming boy was uncomfortable. There was no way someone could change so fast in just a day or two. Something had to be up.

"Y'know, I'm just gonna head over to the bookstore for a little while..." Alfred said slowly, biting his lip. Ivan smiled.

"You like to read?"

"Um..." Alfred trailed off. "Like comics and stuff..." He glanced at Ivan for a moment before starting off toward the store. This whole thing was just awkward and he wanted to get away. Moreover, he wanted Ivan to stop making everything so weird. His day had been going badly enough as is.

"What kind of comics?" Ivan asked, following Alfred. Alfred groaned internally.

"I don't know. Like superheroes and stuff."

"Like Superman?"

They walked across the threshold and into the new bookstore. It was quieter there. "Sure, if you want to go old school. But there are some new ones too," Alfred explained, not sure why he was even speaking to Ivan. The older boy had been acting more normal lately, if anything, and that was the only reason Alfred could think of.

"What are you looking for now?"

"Look," Alfred said, turning to Ivan. "If this was twenty questions everything'd be cool but since it_ isn't_," Alfred raised one eyebrow, "or at least I don't _think_ it is, I kinda just wanna chill and look for my book, 'kay?"

In retrospect, it was probably the boldest thing Alfred had ever said to Ivan. To tell the taller, more intimidating boy to shut up and leave him alone was really a long shot. But, for some reason, it worked.

Ivan followed Alfred quietly as the younger boy perused the bookshelves for the newest edition of this really good comic he'd been reading. It took him a while, growing increasingly fidgety under Ivan's careful gaze, but he found it. He watched as Ivan examined the cover in his hand as they made their way to the checkout.

"What is it about?" Ivan asked as they left the store.

"I can't really explain. You'd have to read it," Alfred said, mostly just to get out of having to talk more than usual.

"Could I?"

Alfred stopped. "Huh?"

"Could I read it?"

"Um...sure. If you wanted to."

Ivan smiled brightly. "And you have it, да?"

Ah. So that's where this was going. "I guess. Yeah."

"May I borrow it?"

Alfred grimaced. "I don't want you to break it or something."

"I promise I won't. Please?"

Alfred thought for a moment. "Okay. But first you have to tell me why you're acting all weird now."

"I want to be your friend," Ivan said, as though it explained anything. Alfred sighed sharply.

"You know what? Whatever. Sure, you can borrow it. I gotta go."

"Alfred!" Ivan called. Alfred didn't turn around.

"I'll give it to you Monday!" he yelled back, spotting his mother waiting outside the grocery store surrounded by bags. She waved at him, and he could see her grin.

And then there was that familiar vibrating in his pocket. Alfred sighed, pulling out his phone and flicking it open. It was a message from Sunflower, probably saying something along the lines of misunderstandings and just wanting to be friends. As his eyes ran over the single sentence, though, he couldn't help the smile that curled across his lips and ran straight to his heart.

_I don't like you, Alfred, because I love you._

And everything was worthwhile.

* * *

><p><em>corny ending is corny._

_But I know you all don't care. Unless you do. Because in that case I'm very sorry._

_Review? And if you can point out any typos I guess the song thing still holds. Either that or some fried chicken. Your choice._


	8. Not Too Bad

_Ciao, my pretties ^^ This chapter was kind of fun to write :D And I found I actually have a plan for the next few chapters too so those should come out a bit earlier. I think. Unless school decides to give me lots of homework. _

_Matthew appears in this chapter! He's a bit more canon, I guess, but some aspects of his character still spring straight from my brain. So here you go!_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Mattie Mattie Mattie <em>Mattie Mattie Mattie.<em>

Alfred bounced around his bedroom, getting it ready for his cousin's arrival. His mother had left for the airport about an hour before, and he could barely contain his excitement. A grin that stretched from ear to ear had been plastered on his face since he'd woken up and realized what day it was. (It may have been helped along by the text he got from Sunflower that had said _Good morning, my dear._)

Anyway, he was about to jump through the ceiling as he shoved clothes into his closet and pulled the spare mattress out of the walk-in attic to put on his floor. Alfred hadn't seen his cousin for nearly a year, and he had so much to tell the other boy. Mainly about Sunflower. He hoped Matthew could give him some insight, an outside opinion on the whole situation.

When his room was ready Alfred headed downstairs, turning into the living room. As he stepped inside his eyes ran over the whole area. Everything appeared to be in order…well, except for the forlorn-looking bag of potato chips sitting askew on the coffee table. Alfred picked it up, wrinkling his nose as he reached in and crunched a soggy chip. These were gone.

He dropped the bag in the kitchen garbage can just as the phone rang. Alfred jumped, letting out a sigh when the second ring came. Without checking who it was he picked up, grin reasserting itself on his lips.

"Hellooo…" he greeted, twirling around so he was leaning against the counter.

"_Alfred…is this Alfred?"_ a robust female voice asked, sounding quite worried.

"Yeah."

"_God, I'm so sorry! I should have had someone call or something…are you okay?"_

It took a moment for the identity of the caller to click in Alfred's mind. "…Emma?"

"_I'm really sorry,"_ she continued. _"I guess you heard about what happened, right? I swear I wouldn't stand you up."_

"It's cool," Alfred said, eyes widening as he realized how the whole incident with Emma had slipped his mind. He heard a relieved sigh from the other end.

The rest of the conversation continued on rather awkwardly as Emma continued to apologize and gush about how thankful she was that Alfred wasn't mad. Alfred was quiet for a while, letting her talk. Then, just as they were about to hang up, he got an idea.

"Hey, uh…Emma? Can I ask you a question?"

"_Mmhmm?"_

"Does the, um, word 'Sunflower' mean anything to you?"

"_They're pretty, I guess. Why?"_

That was the answer he needed. "Never mind. Okay. Thanks. Talk to you later."

He hung up, sighing. Alfred stayed against the counter for a second, looking around for anything else he needed to clean. Then, he heard the wonderful, beautiful, glorious sound of the motor of a car pulling up his driveway.

MATTIE MATTIE MATTIE MATTIE…

He bounded for the door, yanking it open and running down the steps, completely disregarding his lack of shoes or jacket in the new late October chill. As he did the car stopped, his mother getting out. Then the passenger door opened, Alfred's grin spreading as his cousin Matthew revealed himself.

Immediately Alfred launched himself at the other boy, the cry of "_Mattie!"_ leaping from his lips. Matthew tensed as the arms wrapped around him, but after a short moment of understanding he returned the hug.

"Hey, Al," he said fondly, smiling lightly. Alfred's grin was impossibly wide now, and he sucked in a deep breath.

"Ohmigod I was, like, waiting for so long and now it's _awesome_ 'cause you're here and I have _so_ much to tell you about, like, everything! And I got some new games and I don't know if you'll like 'em but they're really cool and you should _aaand_ I drew some stuff and holy crap I have to tell you about Ivan too, don't I? 'Cause it's been _sooo loooong_ since you were here and I don't even know like almost a year, right? What's been up with you?"

Matthew blinked, eyes glazing over a bit as he attempted to decipher the nearly incoherent cousin-babble. Then his face lit up as he realized he had something to answer. "I've been okay."

"Alfred," his mother scolded. "Matthew's been sitting on a plane for four hours now. I don't think he wants to rush straight up to your room just yet."

"It's okay," Matther answered in his soft voice. Alfred shot an exaggerated glare at his mother.

"I think we should let Mattie choose. C'mon, Matt. Video games or awkward chit-chat?"

"Um…well…"

"It's not _awkward,_ Alfred. It's just some catching up. I want to know what Matthew's been up to."

"Either's fine…" Matthew bit his lip, eyes flicking from his cousin to his aunt. Alfred shook his head.

"You can talk to him whenever you want," he reasoned.

"And you can play video games whenever you want."

"_No_," Alfred countered, "I _can't_."

"Guys!" Matthew said a bit louder. Alfred seemed to realize that he was still there, turning to him with a grin.

"So, you comin' upstairs?"

Alfred's mother sighed exasperatedly, shaking her head as she went up into the house. Matthew shrugged, following Alfred up through the living room and to the stairs. When they got into Alfred's room Matthew promptly collapsed on his bed.

"Tired?" Alfred asked. Matthew nodded into the blankets.

"So what was the game you wanted to show me?"

Alfred's smile widened. "Actually, there is no game. I just told Mom that so she wouldn't ask any…" Alfred's eyes narrowed, face dramatic. "…_questions_."

Matthew's ears almost perked. "So what, then?"

"I got something awesome to show you," Alfred said with a grin, pulling out Sunflower's few latest messages. He held the phone up to Matthew's nose, nearly bouncing up and down with excitement.

Matthew's eyes widened. "Is that for you?"

"Better believe it!"

Matthew reread the words, the corners of his lips rising a little. "Who is it?" At this Alfred stopped, looking away awkwardly. He pulled the phone down.

"That's kinda where I needed your help," he said. Matthew nodded in understanding. "She wants me to call her Sunflower."

"Do you have any _idea_ who it is?"

"Nope."

Matthew blinked a couple times in thought. "I don't really know anyone here."

"That's cool," Alfred said. "I just need some input. Like, I can show you the other messages. And first she sent me some letters and made this huge banner on the gym wall saying she loved me."

"That's intense," Matthew said.

"Like camping, dude."

"That joke is old, Alfred."

"Yeah, well," Alfred shrugged one shoulder, handing over his phone to Matthew. "It's awesome."

Just as Matthew started looking through the messages, though, he jumped and nearly dropped the phone. It vibrated again, signifying another message. Alfred snatched it back, eyebrows shooting up as he read it.

"Oh God."

_Hello, Alfred. It is Ivan. Now that we are friends I want to spend time with you. I'll be at your house at four._

Alfred closed his eyes, passing the cell phone back to Matthew for him to read. "Who's that?" Matthew asked.

"Braginski. He's that Russian kid I told you about, the asshole one."

"He says you're friends."

"Yeah, well, apparently we are now. He's been acting really weird lately. Like actually-being-nice-to-me type weird. I think he's trying to jump me."

"And he's coming over at four."

"He can wait outside."

Matthew laughed a little. "Oh, joy. So, back to this Sunflower girl. Are you _sure_ she's real?"

Alfred nodded. "It's legit. I mean, you shoulda seen the thing she posted on the wall. It was huge."

Matthew took a second, pressing a few more buttons. Then his eyes softened. "Awww."

Alfred couldn't help the smile. "Yeah, she's pretty cute."

Another few minutes passed in silence and then Matthew snapped the phone shut. "Well, I think you should meet her."

Alfred stopped. "What?"

"Um…you should meet her. Face to face."

Oh. Alfred had _totally_ thought of that. "I already asked her who she was and she said she couldn't tell me yet, though."

Matthew bit his lip. "So maybe she wanted you to find out in person. But don't take my word for it."

"Shit, now I don't know."

"Ask her."

Alfred scratched his head. "You really think?"

"What could it hurt?"

Alfred slid his hand into his pocket, pulling out the phone. "'Kay. Here goes."

He wrote the quick message in just a few seconds, staring at it for a moment before letting his finger hover over the send button. "What if she says no?"

Matthew cocked his head to the side, his longer blond hair swaying with it. "Then she says no."

Alfred sighed, sending the message. "It's almost three. Braginski's coming in an hour."

"Good job," Matthew congratulated. "And I actually kinda want to see the Ivan guy."

"Oh," Alfred said, laughing mirthlessly. "No, you don't."

* * *

><p>The moment the clock ticked four there was a knock on the door and a simultaneous ringing of the doorbell. Alfred groaned, waiting for his mother to answer the door. He and Matthew had just gotten back to his room after realizing that the latter would probably need his suitcase and other things from the car.<p>

After the doorbell rang there were a few moments of silence before Alfred heard the front door open and some muffled talking. He held his ear to the door, Matthew waiting on the bed behind him for an update on how the whole Ivan situation was going. Alfred could hear his mother's voice and then a lighter male one. Yep. This was Ivan, alright.

"Is he there?" Matthew asked, and Alfred waved his hand a bit frantically to shut him up. There were some footsteps and then the door closed again. Then more footsteps and then…

"Alfred! Ivan's here!"

"Crap," Alfred muttered under his breath, sitting back from the door. If he didn't answer maybe his mother would get the message. When her voice came again a few moments later, however, he realized that wouldn't be the case.

"I'm sending him up!"

Alfred leaped away from the door, stumbling as he got to his feet. "Shiiiit…" he whined. Matthew seemed quite intrigued, and he watched the door as the footsteps got closer and closer. Then they stopped just in front of the door, waiting a moment before the knock came.

Alfred pouted at the door, crossing his arms. Matthew shook his head, going over to open it. As he did he paused for a moment, eyes widening. Alfred bit his lip, waiting for something to happen.

"Alfred," Ivan said in surprise, still hidden from the named boy's view by the door. "You changed your hair."

"Um…" Matthew seemed to have been rendered a bit speechless, probably because of Ivan's height and increase level of intimidation. "I'm Matthew."

"What did you do with Alfred?" Ivan immediately demanded, and Alfred could imagine the face he was making. Matthew shrunk away, not so eager to meet Ivan anymore.

"Nothing!" Matthew said quickly, jabbing his finger in Alfred's direction. "He's right there."

"Oh!" Ivan said, pushing the door open all the way to reveal Alfred. "Hello! Who is your friend?" The words sounded friendly but they were laced with malice.

"Mattie's my _cousin_," Alfred said, glaring. Ivan blinked before smiling.

"Lovely. If I may ask, what is he doing here?" If Alfred hadn't known better he'd have thought Ivan sounded disappointed.

"He's here 'cause he's awesome. Why're _you_ here?"

"Well," Ivan said, brightening considerably. "I supposed that since you ran out last time we still need to work on our project. And there will be no mention of any parents or lack thereof. Acceptable?"

Matthew managed to hide behind the door as this went on. It was weird how he acted around others. When with Alfred or some of his other friends he was really outgoing and even a bit cynical and sarcastic. But in crowds, or with someone he didn't know, he shut down. This was one of those times.

"Um, I'm kinda catching up with my super-awesome cousin and, y'know, since I don't really _like_ you…"

Ivan's face fell. He stared at Alfred for a moment, looking deeply confused. "But we are friends, right?"

"I _guess_. I mean, I only kinda agreed a little," Alfred said, shrugging and looking away. The look on Ivan's face was painful to watch.

"That Japanese boy is your friend. And you two visit each other's houses whenever you wish," Ivan reasoned, eyebrows furrowing.

"Yeah, well Kiku and I have been friends since I don't know how long," Alfred countered. "So, maybe if you, y'know, _ask_ me next time you want to come over maybe I'll say yes." He tried to sound as forceful as possible.

"This is irrelevant," Ivan said, pulling himself back together. "Because I am already here and we have a project to work on."

"Tough. Mattie's here and I wanna talk to him."

"He can help," Ivan said, probably trying to be sweet. Matthew was busy hiding behind the door.

"But that's not cool," Alfred complained. "He just got here."

"So did I."

"Yeah, but I _want_ him here."

Ivan didn't seem to understand that he wasn't welcome, because he waltzed over to sit down on Alfred's bed. Matthew peeked out from behind the door, eyes wide. Alfred just groaned, rolling his eyes. "So," Ivan said, opening a notebook he'd been carrying with him. "Your topic was 'True Love.'"

"Seriously, man, _leave_."

Ivan glanced up to Alfred, eyes glinting dangerously. "…and my topic was 'Human Nature,'" he continued. "Have you given any thought as to how we should connect the two?"

"Um…" Alfred moved back a little, almost unconsciously. "I dunno…"

"The Nature of True Love."

All attention immediately snapped to Matthew, whose head was only just visible around the edge of the door. He recoiled, hidden from view again. Ivan looked thoughtful. "That sounds good."

Alfred shrugged. Obviously Ivan wasn't planning on leaving and though he'd been acting so strangely lately Alfred didn't want to push it too far. "I guess."

"Come. Sit. Your cousin may join us."

Matthew showed no intention of moving from his vantage point behind the door so Alfred didn't press that either. He was really being a pushover today, wasn't he? Whatever. Anything to get Ivan to leave as fast as possible, he told himself.

"So, we must make a visual presentation. Like a video, no?"

"I got a video camera," Alfred said, carefully sitting on the bed as far away from Ivan as possible without falling off. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Matthew crouch down, watching the whole scene. Lucky.

"Perfect. I will write the script right away."

"Hey, hey," Alfred said, holding his hands up. "Not so fast. We gotta figure out what it's gonna be about. And I'm not letting you do all the good stuff."

Ivan raised an eyebrow. "Then what are your ideas?"

"Lemme think for a minute," Alfred said, furrowing his eyebrows. "We could do, like, acting and stuff." For some reason he felt a bit more comfortable talking with Ivan now that Matthew was in the room and his mother was just downstairs. He crossed his arms. "As long as I get to film."

"I would like to see you act," Ivan said with a smirk. Alfred glanced over to Matthew for a reaction but there was none.

"Uh…how 'bout we just pitch ideas back and forth…y'know, until we get something we like."

And so that's how it went. Ivan only seemed to be able to offer scenarios in which Alfred played Psyche and had to wear dresses. Just another way for him to make fun of Alfred. Matthew didn't offer any more helpful ideas, instead opting to sneak out and go downstairs; probably to have that catching-up chat Alfred's mother had been wanting. Alfred tried saying that they should do a fancy metaphor-type thing with lots of symbolism and other stuff that Ms. Héderváry would eat up. Ivan would have none of it.

"I think it would really bring up your popularity if you wore the toga, Alfred."

"Yeah, well, only if you shoot yourself in the ass."

"Anything if you start crying."

"Only when you start dancing."

"The tango. I'll lead."

"Like hell you will. I'm the man in this relationship."

At this Ivan got creepily close, wiggling his eyebrows. "I think we've been over this."

Alfred backed away, shooting Ivan a worried look. "You're so gay, dude."

Ivan just chuckled lightly, shaking his head. Alfred rolled his eyes. "So, whatever. What do we got so far?"

"Absolutely nothing until you agree to the toga."

"Then I guess we got no project."

"Alfred," Ivan scolded playfully. "It's a simple request, really."

"If you like it so much why don't _you_ be what's-her-face?"

"You'd like that."

Alfred mocked disgust and fell off the bed. He twitched on the floor for a moment as Ivan laughed. Then, Alfred stopped. He froze mid-twitch, looking up at Ivan with wide eyes. Because Ivan was laughing. And it wasn't the haha-you're-in-pain laugh or his evil chuckle either. It was a happy kind of laugh, and it was so completely foreign to Alfred's ears.

"What?" Ivan asked after a moment, staring down at Alfred. The latter just blinked, shaking his head. What the hell was he doing? This was Ivan he was talking about. _That_ Ivan. The one he didn't like.

Who was turning out to be not so bad.

"Nothing," he said, scratching his head as he sat up. "Y'know, we can do this in class. And it's probably time for you to…um…go…"

"Of course," Ivan said, though he looked a bit disappointed. Alfred tried to ignore it. "First, though, may I ask where your bathroom is?"

"Oh," Alfred said, "Yeah, it's downstairs. Like right next to the stairs, but not on the living room side. It has a big wooden house thing on it. You'll see it."

"Спасибо," Ivan said. Alfred furrowed his eyebrows but didn't say anything. He'd heard Ivan speaking in Russian sometimes, like maybe he forgot English every once in a while. It was still weird to hear.

Ivan left and Alfred stood up, brushing himself off. He should probably go down to see Matthew, maybe rescue him from the idle conversation of his mother. There was a small buzzing noise, though, before he could leave. It was coming from the cell phone lying on his nightstand.

He picked it up, flipping it open and reading the latest message. It was from Sunflower.

_How are you today, Alfred?_

Alfred thought a moment before smiling and typing in his answer.

_not too bad_

* * *

><p><em>Isn't it cute? Oh, and Arthur's going to be in the next chapter :D<em>

_Спасибо = Thank you_

_Review? And if you can point out any typos I'll give you some chocolate and a hefty portion of Australia._


	9. On Filming

_Hello, my pretties! How are you all? I'm so glad a lot of you like Mattie, and though he's not really in this chapter he'll come back. And for those of you who were asking for some PruCan...we'll see 6/:_

_So, without further ado, let's see Alfred discover himself! A little!_

* * *

><p>It surprised Alfred in the morning, how much he wasn't dreading English class. Instead of biding his time and hoping he could figure out something to say back to Ivan he was relaxed and unworried. Well, almost unworried.<p>

While other people in the class had been busy working away on their project over the weekend Alfred and Ivan had been too busy goofing off (God that was weird to think) to have gotten anything done. And Alfred had no idea when it was due.

So he was a bit nervous walking into the English room that day. Ivan smiled at him as he entered and sat down. Emma was back.

Ms. Héderváry cleared her throat as Alfred opened up his binder, trying to find the notes he couldn't remember if he'd taken while Ivan was over. There was some yelling outside in the hallway, but Alfred disregarded it. It probably wasn't important anyway, and he really needed to find out when he'd have to get that project done.

"Okay!" Ms. Héderváry started, clapping her hands together. "I hope everyone had a nice weekend!"

There were a few murmurs here and there about how the weekend had been okay. Ms. Héderváry smiled, glancing quickly at the door. "How far did you all get on your projects?" she asked. "Anyone done?"

The yelling outside got louder but nobody made any comment. Instead, a pair of students in the back raised their hands, asking a question about content and whether or not they could present their finished project. Alfred looked over at Ivan, a bit concerned. The taller boy seemed unfettered.

"I'd prefer you wait until Friday," Ms. Héderváry answered. There was the information Alfred had been looking for. "If you-"

"Ms. H!"

Arthur, the same senior from the week before, stumbled up against the door. Ms. Héderváry jumped, eyes wide. Arthur looked like he'd just been in a fight, hair tousled wildly and clothes in disarray. He limped inside, gasping for breath.

"Arthur!" Ms. Héderváry cried, rushing toward him. "What's going on?"

"I'm fine. Where's the bag?" he demanded. Ms. Héderváry looked nervously at the class before turning back to Arthur worriedly. "I _need _that bag," he continued, as footsteps pounded down the hallway.

"...okay," she conceded, hurrying over to her desk. She retrieved the same knit bag from the previous week, thrusting it into Arthur's arms. Alfred watched with wide eyes, as did the rest of the class, as the footsteps breached the threshold and Francis came into view. He was out of breath and looked just as beaten up as Arthur.

"Liar!" he cried, leaning heavily against the doorframe. Alfred took a moment to realize that there was a huge fight going on, and he was witnessing it.

"You're the bloody liar!" Arthur yelled back, stepping into a defensive stance around the bag. Gilbert got up from his seat, creeping away to the side of the room. Francis stepped forward dangerously, eyes dark.

"I'm the liar?" he asked coldly. "You get me to believe that all this isn't your fault, that you're always the victim, when _all this time_-"

Alfred hadn't really heard Francis speak so much, and as he yelled at Arthur Alfred could hear a slight accent. He couldn't tell where from. This was all made irrelevant as Francis launched himself at Arthur.

Alfred stood up in his seat as the two started throwing punches. The entire class seemed a bit in awe, sitting and watching the scene play out in complete silence. Francis had tackled Arthur to the floor and was sitting on top of him, looking as though he was trying to strangle the other boy. Arthur was swinging wildly at Francis's body. Nobody else seemed to be doing anything about this.

Alfred sprung into motion, nearly tripping over his desk as he jumped at the boys fighting on the floor. In one swift motion he jerked Francis up, holding him back as Arthur's face turned from anger to complete shock. Gilbert looked kind of confused. Alfred could only think about stopping the fight. As he dragged Francis out of the room, the older boy desperately trying to get away, Arthur just stayed on the ground in shock.

"What do you think you're _doing?_" Francis demanded as they reached the hallway, jerking himself out of Alfred's grasp and whirling to face the shorter boy. "What on earth were you _thinking?_"

Arthur appeared a moment later, fuming. Alfred's eyes widened and he backed up, deeply confused and a bit hurt. "You fucking _idiot!_" Arthur screamed, storming toward Alfred. He looked about ready to murder him, the bag clutched tightly in his hand. Alfred just stared uncomprehendingly.

"What...but...?" he sputtered, holding up his hands in defense. Arthur and Francis closed in, and though the phrase was clichéd if looks could kill Alfred would have been long dead. He backed into the wall, trying desperately to form words that would help his situation.

"Everything was perfect until _you_ had to come in and be all heroic," Arthur hissed, face bright red. Then he turned to Francis. "I told you we should have done this with real actors."

"_Oui_, I'm starting to see your point," Francis huffed, crossing his arms. Alfred's mouth opened in a silent "o" of realization. So that had all been for their movie. And he'd forgotten and ruined the entire scene.

"Wait, guys!"

Gilbert came running out of the now chaotic room, holding something up in his hand. It took Alfred a second to realize that it was a video camera. The pale boy waved it excitedly.

"Don't kill 'im yet!" he cried, grabbing Arthur by the shoulder and turning him around. "This shot's frickin' beast!"

"What are you going on about?" Arthur snapped, obviously still furious. Gilbert played whatever he'd recorded, and after a moment of watching Arthur turned away. "We can't use this. He's not a character."

"But," Gilbert countered, grinning, "You gotta admit that was kind of awesome. And right now all the characters are kind of the same." Arthur lifted one challenging eyebrow. "But not like that! I mean, wouldn't it be cool if we could put in the do-goody guy? Like...like I dunno. The wannabe hero or something?"

"We've already filmed a good part already. There's no room."

"We can cut some stuff. We can make this work, and, y'know. That scene would be kind of lame now without Superman over here saving your ass." With that Gilbert jerked a thumb at Alfred, who was still cowering by the wall.

Arthur scowled, glancing from Gilbert to Alfred and then back. "Francis. What do you think?"

Francis shrugged, anger clearly gone. "I do not know, _mon cher_. It sounds fine to me."

"Well then," Arthur sighed, looking at Alfred with distaste. "I don't know that we have much alternative."

Alfred blinked. "I dunno..." he said, biting his lip. "I mean, I'm not really an actor or anything."

"I'm afraid you don't have the liberty of choice," Arthur said shortly. Alfred looked at his feet.

"Sorry," he mumbled. "I guess I just kinda freaked. I forgot you were doing that whole movie thing."

"Well, you'll be sure not to forget again," Arthur said, nostrils flaring. The stud in one of them glinted in the light. "Idiot."

Alfred winced, crossing his arms protectively. Arthur then turned and started off, anger simmering down a little. Francis seemed a little less sure, shooting Alfred a worried glance before following. Gilbert was still looking pumped about the whole thing. He bounced up to Alfred, grinning.

"'Kay, so dude, we're gonna be shooting some more stuff after school, and we're meeting outside. Be there."

Alfred nodded and Gilbert ran off to join Arthur and Francis, completely disregarding the fact that he still had class. The two other boys were holding hands again and it looked like Francis was explaining something. Arthur looked away before pulling Francis into a quick kiss. Then they rounded the corner and left Alfred's vision.

He stood there for a moment, thinking about what had just happened. So, once again, someone had called him an idiot. He sighed.

But then the corners of his mouth twitched, and soon they were stretched in a full-blown grin. He smiled, letting his head fall back on the wall. Alfred may have been an idiot, he may have messed things up, but now he was going to be acting. In a real live movie.

And that was pretty damn awesome.

* * *

><p>When he got back into class everyone had settled down a little. Alfred could only assume that Ms. Héderváry had told them it was all just for the movie and they'd lost interest. Anyway, after the incident there were only about ten minutes of class left. Alfred sat down and Ms. Héderváry apologized before saying the class had the last few moments to do whatever they wanted (though she highly suggested working on the project.)<p>

Ivan took the opportunity to grill Alfred about what had happened.

"What did he say?"

"Not much."

"Did he hurt you?"

"Nope."

"Did they threaten you?"

"Not as far as I know."

"Are you lying to me?"

"Look, if I was lying to you you'd never know it."

Ivan raised an eyebrow. "I'm not sure of that."

"Well," Alfred said, shrugging, "Get that way."

"Would you like to come over to work on our project?" Ivan asked, looking hopeful. Alfred shook his head.

"Can't. Mattie's over. You could probably come over to my place or something, though. I don't think he'll freak out again like he did last time."

"It is fine, really," Ivan said, looking a bit distasteful at the mention of Matthew. "Have you come up with any other ideas?"

"Actually, I was kind of thinking that we could do the filming in this place I know up on the hill."

Ivan blinked before his eyes lit up. "The hill? In the wilderness?"

"Yep."

"By ourselves?"

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed. "I guess. Why?"

"Nothing," Ivan said, the sly smile betraying his thoughts. Well, betraying them to all except Alfred, who just blinked a couple times before smiling back.

"So you can come over?"

"Always."

"See you then," Alfred said, only just realizing how ridiculous that sounded. It was funny how civil he could be to Ivan now. Was one day of doing whatever really enough to warrant peace? Apparently.

The bell rang and Alfred hopped up. This morning had really been kind of weird, what with the whole incident with Arthur and Francis and the whole movie thing…oh, shit.

"Ivan!" he called as the taller boy started down the hallway. Ivan stopped, turning in surprise. Alfred jogged up to him, eyes wide. "I can't. I mean, you can't come over today. I, um…I kinda…there's just some stuff happening and I forgot and _sorry_."

Ivan's face fell and he looked down, nodding. "I see. What is happening, may I ask?"

"I got roped into this whole thing with that Arthur guy and stuff, and…Jesus, you look like I kicked you, dude."

Ivan's face immediately changed, dropping the forlorn expression and replacing it with apathy. Alfred sighed, kicking the floor awkwardly. "But, y'know, you might be able to come after. Like I could call you or something. That okay?"

Ivan nodded quickly, smiling again. "You _will_ call, да?"

"Yeah. I'm not gonna stand you up or something." Alfred'd had far too much experience in those kinds of things to do it to someone else. Even if that someone was Ivan. "So just be ready."

Alfred turned then to go to his next class. He took a few steps before Ivan called out. "Alfred!" The younger boy turned, raising his eyebrows. Ivan took a deep breath, wetting his lips nervously. Then he sighed, smiling lightly. "Я тебя люблю!"

Alfred smiled, waving. "I'm gonna guess that means 'see ya!'" he called back. "You too!"

Ivan's smile turned into a grin, and as he watched Alfred walk away he clutched his books to his chest. He just stood there in the hallway for a moment, smiling so wide he felt like his face would fall off, and as Alfred turned the corner he looked down and kissed the top of his textbook. Nobody else in the world noticed.

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><p>After the morning school was surprisingly uneventful. For some reason Alfred had felt like if one weird thing happened then more should naturally follow. Apparently that wasn't the case. Classes came and classes went without consequence, and Alfred found his thoughts veering toward what he'd have to do with Arthur and Francis and Gilbert, if he was there. Kiku had wished him luck.<p>

The moment the bell rang he was in the hallway gathering his things. He ignored everyone else as he slammed his locker shut, nearly dashing to the school doors. He thought someone might have tried to tell him something but he wasn't really aware.

He caught a glimpse of the back of what looked like a head of nearly white hair exit through the smaller set of side doors leading to the courtyard outside. He followed, backpack slung over a shoulder. As he pushed through the doors, however, there was something wrong. The yard was empty. Not a soul in sight.

"Hello?" he called. He heard some footsteps over to the side, but in the wide open area he couldn't see anyone. Where could they be hiding? Was this some joke? Not again. Since becoming quasi-friends with Ivan he'd kind of forgotten about the whole "let's play a practical joke on Alfred!" thing.

"So you're here."

Alfred jumped at the voice as it came up behind him. He whirled around as the door closed behind him, Arthur smiling slyly as he blocked Alfred's escape. "I didn't think you'd come."

"Um…" Alfred quickly glanced to his sides, trying to look for some kind of getaway. "Why wouldn't I? I mean…you kinda…" he stuttered, clearing his throat.

Then, to Alfred's complete shock, Arthur stepped forward. His fingers came up to brush the underside of Alfred's chin lightly, his smirk far too devious for his own good. Alfred swallowed, stumbling backwards. His eyes widened. "What's going on?"

A smaller hand curled into the front of his shirt and Arthur pulled himself closer, so he was nearly flush with Alfred's body. Alfred nearly leaped away, tripping over the concrete step by the door and falling backwards onto the ground. His backpack rolled a foot or so away, and all he could do was stare up at Arthur.

"What the _hell?_" he demanded, mouth open in shock. Arthur didn't answer, instead kneeling to the ground, straddling one of Alfred's legs. Alfred's heart sped up as Arthur leaned closer, planting a hand next to his head and forcing Alfred down on his back.

"Don't pretend," Arthur breathed, and Alfred could feel the heat on his face. Arthur's breath smelled like peppermint. "I know."

"What?" Alfred squeaked, eyes wide. He tried to push Arthur off but he didn't have the leverage and soon he found hands pinning his wrists above his head. That's about when he started to panic.

Arthur somehow managed to free a hand while still holding Alfred's down, and his fingers met Alfred's chest. They worked their way down to the base of his shirt and then (to Alfred's complete bewilderment) they ducked underneath.

Alfred sucked in a tight breath, face flushing. He started to struggle again, heart pounding.

"Arthur!"

Arthur's head whipped around, shock written all over his face. Alfred could barely see Francis standing in the doorway, and a wave of relief flooded through him. Arthur flinched away, nearly falling off of Alfred. "Francis!" he cried, eyes widening.

"I _knew it!_" Francis screamed, absolute rage running jagged across his face. Alfred just watched, close to hyperventilating, as Arthur crept backwards.

"It's not—he forced me!" Arthur jabbed a finger at Alfred, who immediately started sputtering out anything and everything to the negative.

"I didn't! He just…I don't know what happened! Holy shit, holy shit…" he stared as Francis stormed toward a cowering Arthur.

"I got you _everything_ you needed and _this_ is how you repay me?" Francis cried, accent only coloring his words with more emotion, somehow. "I help you get _everything you ever wanted, _didn't I?"

"You did! And you _are_ what I want!" Arthur tried to explain. Alfred reached for his backpack, getting ready to run. Maybe if they were preoccupied he could get away. The shock was just now wearing off, and now Alfred was struck with the overwhelming urge to _leave_.

"You stay here!" Francis yelled, turning to Alfred. Alfred froze, shrinking visibly. His face was still flushed.

"Francis, love, don't make this into—"

"Into _what?_" Francis demanded. "Don't exaggerate it, is that what you're trying to say? I saw what was going on, Arthur! You can't _hide_ that!"

"Please!" Arthur tried, looking impossibly desperate. "Francis—"

"_Mr. Bonnefoy_," Francis hissed. Arthur just gaped for a moment, and it looked like he was about to cry. Francis glared, but it looked like he was close to tears too. Alfred swallowed thickly as Francis swung the door open, dashing away.

"Cut!"

Alfred jumped a foot in the air as the rough voice called through the courtyard. Arthur sniffled once, expression changing completely as he wiped at his watering eyes. "How did the shot look?"

If Alfred had been standing up he would have fainted.

Francis came back out, smiling. "That was perfect!"

"I don't know…at least the kid didn't fuck up," Arthur allowed. He extended a hand to Alfred as there was a rustle of leaves and Gilbert appeared out of one of the trees, video camera in one fist. Alfred stared at the hand for a moment, eyes nearly glazing over as he remembered how only moments before it had been halfway up his shirt. He took it gingerly, and Arthur helped him to his feet.

"So there was your first lesson in acting," Arthur said, an eerily familiar version of his previous smirk curling the edges of his mouth.

"You were really getting into that, werencha?" Gilbert ribbed Arthur lightly, grinning. "But seriously, that was perfect. If only Tony was here to see _that_…"

"_Antoine_ will not be back for a while…I was going to talk to you about that," Francis said, and Alfred felt it was his time to leave. He was still in a bit of a daze as he picked up his backpack. Gilbert came over, slapping him just a bit too hard on the back.

"That was awesome for the first time, dude. We'll call on you if there are any more scenes we need you in, 'kay?"

Alfred nodded, opening the door. He still wasn't quite sure what had just happened. He swallowed as the door clicked shut behind him, and again the thought of Arthur's fingers running over his stomach got stuck front and center in his mind. He sighed, biting his lip. This was fucked up. This was all fucked up. Not that it wasn't cool that he was going to be in a movie. That was awesome and everything.

But…but Arthur was a dude…and no guy should have hands that soft. Or warm.

So fucked up.

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><p><em>Ivan says (and I think you can guess) "I love you."<em>

_Review? And if you can point out any typos I'll give you a hug and a million juice boxes._


	10. Ice Cream and Pants

_Hello, my pretties! How are you all? I'm just dandy, thanks! Here is another chapter for your viewing pleasure. Although this is really like a lot of fluff with some plot injected in it. I think. _

_There may have been a little misunderstanding earlier. I'm probably not going to do any PruCan (sorry D:) But I have a reason! ...which will be discussed at the end of the chapter._

_As a bit of a side note, I honestly can't believe how many reviews I've gotten for this. And since I'm approaching 200...do you think I should do something for the 200th person? Like a oneshot or something? I dunno how these things work. If it's a stupid idea just tell me :P_

_ANYWAY! Enjoy!_

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><p>Alfred called Ivan a few minutes after he got home. Matthew had gone out with Alfred's mother to do whatever they did when they went out (probably getting ice cream and shopping for pants.) Anyway, what seemed like only seconds after Alfred hung up there was a knock on the front door. Alfred opened it, raising his eyebrows in acknowledgment. Ivan's smile far surpassed his own, and his backpack was clutched to his chest. His hair had a leaf stuck in it.<p>

…wait.

Alfred's mouth fell open as he leaned a little out the door, staring in shock at the dent in the shrubs. An Ivan-sized dent. "You didn't."

"Hello, Alfred," Ivan answered lightly. He cocked his head to the side, eyes bright. "How was your meeting?"

"Um…some weird shit went down but…were you waiting in the _hedge_?"

Ivan's mouth opened as though he was going to answer but then he hesitated. "…there was an interesting spider."

"Right," Alfred said skeptically, eyes glued to the small sprig of green in Ivan's hair.

"What happened with the senior boys?" Ivan asked then, lips pursed. Alfred shrugged.

"I nearly got molested or whatever, and then it turns out it's all just for their stupid movie," Alfred said off-handedly. Ivan stiffened.

"…what?"

"Arthur got all close and whatever and eventually he was almost sitting on me. It was kind of freaky." It was a bit of a relief to be able to tell someone about what had happened without expecting any kind of big reaction. He didn't plan on telling Ivan about where exactly Arthur's hand had gone. He still had to think about that.

"What did he do to you?" Ivan demanded suddenly, making Alfred jump. His eyes were angry and wild, and as he leaned in closer Alfred shrunk away.

"Nothing…" Alfred said, the reaction entirely unexpected. "He just…like…I mean, he's gay, isn't he? So it's just…all he did was like…his hand…" Ivan looked like he was seconds away from brutal murder. Alfred was afraid he might be the target.

"He did _what?_" Ivan hissed, and he probably only said it to let off some of the obvious steam building up in his head. Alfred put his hands up in defense.

"It's fine! It's not like he raped me or anything!" he said, maybe a bit too loudly for the open door. He pulled Ivan inside and closed it with a slam.

Ivan whirled around. "Are you okay?" he asked, looking deeply concerned. His eyes ran over Alfred's body, as though he'd be able to see if anything really bad had happened.

"It's cool. I'm still just as straight as ever," Alfred said. He didn't know why he'd tacked on that part at the end. For half a second he could feel Arthur's fingernails brushing up his body again. He swallowed, banishing the thoughts. He had no reason to keep thinking about that. It had been molestation, nothing more and nothing less.

Ivan watched Alfred for a second, and it looked like all the strength had been sapped from him. "Of course," he said quietly. "We should get to work."

Alfred let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding. Ivan looked around the living room, opting to go sit on the couch by the coffee table. Alfred bit his lip. "You want something to drink?" he offered.

"No," Ivan answered. "Thank you."

"You okay?" Alfred asked, a bit uncomfortable. Maybe he shouldn't have said anything.

"I'm fine," Ivan answered shortly. "We need to write the script for our video."

"Yeah," Alfred said, looking for something funny to say to lighten the mood. "Didja bring the toga?" he asked, smiling a little.

Ivan blinked, looking utterly surprised. "I forgot," he said. "Why, were you finally going to give in?"

"I was actually hoping we could get the right size to fit you. Then we just need a wig and ba-da-bing! Psyche." Alfred walked over to the couch as he spoke, sitting down. Ivan raised an eyebrow.

"Are these your inner fantasies of me?"

"Pssh," Alfred said, waving a hand dismissively. "You wish. We can go up and see the place I was talking about on the hill. I dunno if it'll work, though."

"Then we'll have to see," Ivan said, bad mood from before gone. "You never brought me that comic you said you would."

Alfred blinked. Oh. Shit. He'd forgotten entirely about that whole thing. "Right…sorry. I can go get it if you want." He started to get up.

"No, never mind. Sit," Ivan said. "You can give it to me later."

"'Kay. We gotta wait until Mom and Matt get back before we go anywhere, though."

"They…aren't here?"

"Nope. They went shopping." Alfred shrugged, leaning back on the couch. Ivan swallowed but didn't do anything else. "Ugh. I'm tired."

"It's been a long day," Ivan said absently, eyes glued to Alfred. The younger boy yawned, stretching.

"So, we should probably get writing. Did you come up with any lines or anything? I think I got a couple."

"What?" Ivan asked suddenly, as though jerking out of a daze. "Ah. Yes. I had a few." He smiled, leaning over to pull a notebook out of his backpack. Alfred watched him, and as the taller boy extracted the blue spiral-bound book a piece of fabric came with it.

Ivan huffed, plucking the light brown material off of the rings and shoving back into his backpack. Alfred leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "What's that?"

"A scarf," Ivan said, making sure to zip the black backpack up. "My sister made it."

"That's pretty cool. Why doncha wear it?"

"It's not cold enough," Ivan answered simply, but the look on his face told otherwise. "I was thinking we could act out the scene between Cupid and Psyche…"

"Which sister was it? Nat?"

Ivan sighed. "No, Katyusha made it. It isn't important. Anyway, I think that it would be able to express our themes quite well, in that—"

"What's it made out of? Can I see it?"

"_Alfred_." Ivan stressed, closing his eyes. He opened his mouth as though about to scold, but then he closed it again. After a moment his eyes fluttered open again and he stared at the coffee table. "Fine. But then we need to get to work."

He zipped his backpack open again, pulling out the length of fabric. It was a really big scarf, and as Alfred's outstretched hands met it he was surprised at how soft it was. Ivan seemed a bit reluctant to let it go, but after a moment his own fingers released and the scarf fell into Alfred's grasp. He petted it for a second, smiling lightly. "This is cool," he said softly. "I don't have any scarves or anything. I just never thought I needed one or whatever."

"They're very useful," Ivan said, his voice a bit weak. He watched Alfred intently, eyes never leaving the hands on his scarf until Alfred handed it back.

"I bet. So, you wanna act out that scene? Who's gonna be who?"

"I don't think I'd be well-suited to play a woman, Alfred."

"I think you'd fit the part," Alfred disagreed. "You pretty much act like one already."

Ivan's eyebrows shot up, and Alfred instinctively cringed. "You think I act like a girl."

"Totally. Look, your face is even getting red."

Ivan covered his face with a hand, looking away. Alfred laughed, and it was such a strange sound. To think that he could just laugh and cut up with _Ivan_…this would take a little getting used to. Ivan was smiling when he took his hand away.

"We're getting off track," he said lightly, looking very pleased. Alfred nodded. "I'll write. Your handwriting is atrocious."

Alfred supposed that was a kind of insult, but for some reason it was just funny. "Sure, whatever. At least English was my first language. Damn commie."

Ivan stared at Alfred for a moment. Alfred stared back, clearly under the impression this was going to turn into some showdown. Suddenly, Ivan lunged forward. "Boo!" he yelled. Alfred jumped, crying out as he fell off of the couch. He caught himself on his elbows, one foot and part of his leg still up on the cushion. Ivan burst into laughter, a hand coming up to cover his mouth. Alfred glared, pushing up his glasses. Ivan extended a hand. "I couldn't resist. Communist, remember?"

"Evil bastard," Alfred said, taking Ivan's hand and allowing himself to be pulled back up.

"I'm sorry, I thought your privatized economy and monopolies would save you."

"That was kind of a lame joke," Alfred said, raising an eyebrow. That leaf was still stuck in Ivan's hair. He probably didn't even realize it.

Alfred reached up, plucking the little piece of foliage away. Ivan tensed, watching Alfred with wide eyes. When the shorter boy held up the little green leaf, though, he visibly relaxed.

"Спасибо," Ivan said, opening his notebook.

"What does that even mean?" Alfred asked.

"Thank you."

"How did you learn English?" The question was a bit unexpected. Ivan's eyes widened a little as he processed it.

"They taught a little in school but I had to learn most of it when I came here. Now it is just second nature, of course."

"Oh. Kinda sucks when you go somewhere and you don't know what anyone's saying, huh?"

"You get over it."

Alfred nodded. "Right. We should probably get cracking. How should we start the whole thing out?"

"Of course. I was thinking we could start out with Cupid coming into Psyche's room…"

"What part is that again?"

Ivan sighed. "Did you read the story?"

"Some. Like, I get the basic gist."

"So you know what happens."

"Kinda."

Ivan closed his eyes, massaging the bridge of his nose. "_Alfred_."

Alfred put his hands up in defeat. "I'm sorry! I just sort of forgot. I'll figure it out."

"I don't understand how you're passing this class."

Alfred's eyes lit up. "I'm passing?"

Ivan didn't even justify that with an answer. "Cupid is the god of desire. Love. You know that, да?"

"Yeah. And Psyche is the human chick."

"Exactly. Venus is jealous of how beautiful she is," Ivan continued, scrawling something down in the notebook. "…so she sends Cupid to go make her fall in love with a monster so no one can have her. That is the scene we want to use, yes?"

"Sure," Alfred agreed. "Sounds good. But…um…how do we make the themes fit?"

"Cupid shoots himself instead. You know that part. Is that true love or not?"

"Um…I guess not."

"Why not? If Cupid governs love then isn't it?"

"What…shit, I don't know now." Alfred furrowed his eyebrows. Ivan smiled lightly, writing something else in his notebook. He kept it nice and hidden from Alfred's view.

"That could be our focus. Whether or not it was true love."

"That's pretty smart," Alfred said. Ivan smiled.

"I didn't come up with it entirely," he admitted. "It was Natalya's idea."

Alfred's eyes widened. "Really? Why?"

"She is really very nice, you know," Ivan said with a smirk that wasn't entirely unpleasant. "And she is smarter than I am."

"No, dude," Alfred argued. "You're the smartest guy I know. Seriously. Half of what you say I don't even understand. And not the Russian parts."

Ivan's eyes looked cloudy. "Don't be so harsh on yourself."

"But I'm not really smart or anything. It's not like I don't notice it."

"Alfred," Ivan said steadily. He placed a hand on Alfred's back, smiling. "You're very smart. School grades have nothing to do with intelligence."

"Yeah, I guess," Alfred said, shrugging. For some reason he could feel his stomach knotting up, hyper-aware of Ivan's hand on his back. It was cold, and he could feel the cool through his shirt. It was a strange feeling, and one he couldn't quite place. He blamed it on all the conditioning to expect the worst from Ivan throughout the years.

"Trust me."

Alfred looked at Ivan in surprise. Trusting the older boy was something he'd never ever thought to do. "…right. So, um…I guess you're gonna make me be Psyche, huh?"

The hand on Alfred's back left. "I was joking. Only if you want to."

"I guess. I mean, what's the harm?"

"I don't see any."

"So, whatever, I'll be the chick. So you come in and are all like 'Imma shoot you,' huh?"

"A bit like that."

A jiggling of the doorknob jerked both of the boys out of their conversation. A moment later the knob turned and in came Alfred's mother and Matthew. They were still in the midst of a conversation, and Alfred wondered why he hadn't heard them coming.

"…so I was like, 'What's the problem?' and she said 'Well…actually…' and I was like 'Nuh uh, not again,'" Alfred's mother said, plastic bags full of what looked to be a fairly random assortment of boxes and of containers clutched in each hand. Matthew chuckled, also loaded with shopping bags. "Hello, Alfred! You didn't tell me you'd have a_ friend_ over!" Alfred's mother raised her eyebrows, smiling coyly.

"He's not—" Alfred started out of reflex. Then he paused, glancing back at Ivan. "Yeah. Um, we were gonna go up that hill over by the bank so we could work on this movie-project thing we're doing…so yeah."

Alfred stood up, going over to help with the bags his mother was carrying. The ones she gave him were full of two-liter soda bottles and a carton of orange juice. Aaah, juice. Ivan must have stood up as well, because soon Alfred could hear Matthew frantically (yet quietly) explaining to the taller boy that he didn't need any help, but thank you _very much_ for offering. It must not have worked because only moments after Alfred set the bags down on the kitchen table Ivan came in, carrying everything that Matthew had been in possession of just previously.

"I'm looking forward to seeing the place you mentioned," Ivan commented, placing his bags just next to the others. "We can write the script as we go, can we not?"

"That sounds okay. It's not like we were getting anything done anyway," Alfred agreed. "I got some bed sheets we could bring. Togas." He grinned.

"I was not joking about those," Ivan deadpanned. Alfred blinked up at him before shaking his head.

"Me neither, bro. Like they say. The toga makes the man."

* * *

><p>The hike up the hill took longer than expected, although that was mostly due to the fact that Ivan had decided that the whole journey required constant, often hilarious, commentary. Every leaf, every flower that looked just the slightest bit off; it was all accompanied by some wisecrack or sarcastic remark.<p>

"The leaves are changing quite nicely," Ivan said lightly, gazing around and up the hills. They were dotted with reds and oranges, and even the occasional bright yellow. The conifers were still deep green, making for a whole rainbow of fall color. "They are more punctual than last year. Although some of them—" Ivan reached for a tree as they passed, plucking a light green leaf "—are a bit retarded."

It must have been the way he said it, or maybe just his voice in general, but Alfred found that to be the most hilarious thing. He cracked up, laughing out loud. "Retarded leaves."

"It is not their fault. Just a fact of birth. And anyway, I meant retarded as in 'slow.' I do not think it was that funny."

"I guess it's just your accent, dude," Alfred said, still grinning. "You're all like 'some of dem arrre a beet reetarrrded,'" he mimicked, rolling the 'r's especially hard. Ivan hiked a single eyebrow.

"I do not sound like that. If anything you have the ridiculous accent."

"Oh yeah? Do me."

Ivan stopped in his tracks, eyes wide. Alfred took another couple steps before turning back. Ivan was watching Alfred in surprise, and if the shorter boy hadn't known better he would have said Ivan was blushing.

"Dude?" Alfred asked, waving a hand in front of Ivan's face. "I meant, like, do my accent."

Ivan seemed to process this for a moment before he slumped, letting out a huge sigh. "Of course."

"Whatever. Do it!"

"Okay…" Ivan thought before speaking. "Well… 'that's, like, awesome, dude!'" Alfred's grin stretched wider with each word. Ivan's impression still carried a noticeable accent but for all extraneous purposes it was ridiculously accurate.

"I don't say stuff like that!" Alfred argued.

"Um, like, yeah you do," Ivan continued in the same voice. Alfred burst into laughter as they started up an incline. "Don't deny it, man."

"No no no, you're doin' it wrong! You gotta just let it _flow_, like it's all kinda like one word. Y'know?"

"Oh, how could I forget that one? 'Y'know?'"

Alfred started to laugh again, but as they rounded the hill to the place with the rock Alfred had been speaking of he was suddenly stopped. A large arm barred him from continuing, and Ivan slapped a hand over the shorter boy's mouth. His entire demeanor changed as he stared up ahead incredulously.

Alfred's eyes darted forward, and he froze solid as he took in the sight. Well, the rock was there. It was still in the same place, and surrounded by the same trees as usual. What was a bit different about the whole situation, however, were the two people sucking each other's faces off on top.

And they were Gilbert and Ms. Héderváry.

Miiiind fuuuuck.

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><p><em>Review? And if you can point out any typos you win a slushie and Alfred in a toga!<em>


	11. The Rock

_Hello, my pretties! I'm really very sorry that this is so late. I know I promised less than a week between updates but I accidentally left the first part of this chapter at my grandparents' house and I couldn't finish it until I got it back this morning. Still, I'm sorry and I hope it doesn't happen again._

_Thank you to Usagi323 for being the 200th reviewer *o* Mind seriously blown. I don't know what to do for those kinds of things so...cake?_

_Enjoy!_

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><p>Alfred stared in awe as Ms. Héderváry crawled up Gilbert's body, locking their lips once again as she nearly sat on top of the senior. His hands were wandering up and down her body and the curve of one knee became visible between her legs through her skirt. She propped herself up on one arm as the other hand ran through Gilbert's hair. Alfred couldn't move, and he definitely knew he couldn't look away.<p>

A hand closed on his arm and he let out a tiny squeak as he was pulled away and behind a tree. He tripped over something on the ground with a crunch and stumbled forward. A moment later he felt a hand covering his mouth and the warmth of a large body behind him. At once Alfred became hyper-aware of Ivan, of the fingers of the enormous hand on his cheek and the arm looped around his waist. They sank to the ground, Ivan whispering an almost nonexistent "Shhhhh..."

Ms. Héderváry's eyes shot open as Alfred's foot crunched on the ground and she pushed herself up. "Gil," she hissed. "There's someone there."

Gilbert seemed very disoriented as he propped himself up onto his elbows and blinked into the woods. "It was just a rabbit or something," he said, looking very eager to get back to what they'd been doing. For just a split second his eyes met Alfred's, but it didn't seem as though he'd seen the two boys hiding in the brush. "Come on."

"I don't know," the older woman said, biting her lip. Gilbert took hold of her chin, bringing her head around lightly into another kiss.

"It's okay. If there was anyone there I'd kick their ass."

Ivan sucked in a breath and if Alfred hadn't known better he'd have thought the arms around him tightened. The shorter boy could feel Ivan's chest pressing into his back, and for some reason he couldn't make himself pull away. He hoped Ivan didn't notice how he relaxed a little in the vice-like grip.

Ms. Héderváry smiled a little, but she still looked worried. "I know." She stared at Gilbert fondly for a moment before looking away. "I know."

"What's up?" Gilbert asked softly, nuzzling into the teacher's neck. She glanced back into the woods, shrugging.

"Nothing. I just feel like...I'd feel better if we were inside. Not just...out in the open like this."

"Mmm..." Gilbert hummed absently. "We can do that." He started to kiss down her neck, and she giggled a little before pushing him away. He smirked. "Playing hard-to-get, huh?"

"I'm hard-to-get until you graduate," she countered, raising an eyebrow. Alfred glanced up at Ivan. The taller boy's face was unreadable as he watched the conversation between the two people sitting on the large rock.

"Sure, sure," Gilbert admitted. "Let's go."

Ivan pulled Alfred back farther into the brush as Gilbert stood and helped Ms. Héderváry up from the rock. Alfred lost his balance with all the pushing and shoving and landed on his butt, sitting rather awkwardly on Ivan's lap. The taller boy made some kind of choked sound and he stiffened. Alfred didn't move, watching in complete silence as the two other people started down the path, hand in hand.

Their voices eventually died down, after what seemed like an hour. Alfred reached up to pull the hand away from his mouth, and for a moment it wouldn't budge. Then Ivan seemed to regain control over his body and he jerked it away. Alfred pulled himself out of the other boy's lap, putting some distance between himself and Ivan.

"That was interesting," he said as he turned around, sitting on the ground opposite the taller boy. Ivan still looked a bit flustered.

"We must report them," he said after a moment of thought. "That is illegal."

Alfred's eyes went wide. "We can't do that. It's not cool."

"I don't know that 'cool' is what we are aiming for here, Alfred."

"But...but if we rat 'em out then I still have to do the whole movie thing with them and...he might kill me."

"Then I will tell them."

"But you can't," Alfred argued, biting his lip. "I mean...it's not like they're hurting anyone, right?" He really had no idea why he was defending Gilbert and Ms. Héderváry. He knew it was illegal. He knew it was wrong, technically. But for some reason...he wasn't sure...hell, they just fit together. It worked. And Alfred, after all, was a romantic.

"Alfred, I think it is cute how you are defending them. I really do. But I will not take part in any illegal activities."

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Unless you're planning to start fucking Ms. H too I don't get how it's illegal."

Ivan's face flushed horribly and his mouth parted a little. He just stared at Alfred for a moment. And then: "What? What does that...how...ч-что? Нет! Никогда!" He reverted back into Russian, surprising Alfred.

"It's okay. Sorry. I was just joking..." Alfred said, furrowing his eyebrows. Ivan sighed, closing his eyes.

"Я зна-I'm sorry. I know. But we have to tell someone about what we saw."

"Why?"

Ivan didn't answer for a moment. His hands came up to massage his temples and he sighed again. "Never mind." He shook his head. "Never mind. We must work on the project."

Alfred blinked. "Right. Yeah. Okay. So, um...it was gonna be right over there..." he pointed at the infamous rock. "But I'm not so sure now."

Ivan's eyes ran over the rock for a moment. "It is not that bad."

"Yes. It is, actually."

"Your opinions do change so fast. I can almost feel the whiplash," Ivan mused, looking down his nose at Alfred. "One moment you are defending the every wish of criminals, and the next you are afraid to touch a place they sat."

"They were totally making out, dude."

"I could see that, dude," Ivan answered, sounding remarkably as though he were high. It was such an odd combination of accents that Alfred couldn't help but laugh.

"You're like some foreign stoner kid," Alfred said, grinning.

Ivan raised one eyebrow. "I think you are letting your imagination get ahead of you, _Psyche_."

"Shut up." Alfred wandered over to the rock, putting his foot up on it. It jutted out over a sudden hill, and there was a view of much of the town. He seemed to have deemed it safe to use, because then he stepped all the way up onto the large boulder. Ivan wasn't far behind.

Alfred strode confidently over to the edge, protruding a foot or so beyond the curve of the hill. There were little pen and marker marks here and there, whether with profanity or saying who had been there when or who loved whom. The two boys ignored all these, Ivan coming up to look out over the mountain just behind Alfred. They stayed quiet for a moment.

"So I was thinking that Psyche could be here," Alfred said after a short pause, gesturing down at the rock below him. "And then Cupid could come from over there." His finger came up to point toward the path from which they'd come. "So the camera could be sitting up on that branch there. It'd give a good wide shot. But not like a panoramic view."

"Wonderful," Ivan said, smiling lightly. "And so we play the shooting scene?"

"You make it sound like you're some kind of assassin."

"Would you rather I refer to it as the 'Love Scene?'"

Alfred's eyes shot open. "Hell no!" Ivan sighed but the smile didn't leave his face. "That's just kind of…"

"This _is_ a love story, Alfred. I hope you realize this."

"I know," Alfred said, perhaps a bit awkwardly. "It's just weird. Makes it sound like we have to kiss or something."

Ivan made a small noise in the back of his throat which he quickly disguised as a cough. Alfred looked at him a bit funny and he waved a hand in dismissal. "Allergies."

"Whatever. So I'll just be here, like…" Alfred bent his knees, crouching down and putting one hand on the rock for balance. "…this." He stretched out, lying down. "Then you have to come from over there."

Ivan stared at Alfred for a moment before nodding and walking over to the mouth of the pathway. When he reached it he stopped, looking back to Alfred for further instruction.

"Farther!" Alfred called. Ivan went a bit down the path, hiding his body behind a tree. "Okay, now I'm going to pretend to be asleep and you have to come up here and do whatever you're supposed to do!"

Ivan nodded again, starting back up the path and into the small clearing surrounding the rock. Alfred peeked with one squinting eye, watching Ivan as he approached.

"No no no," he said suddenly, opening his eyes and propping himself up onto his elbows. "You have to be all sneaky. Like I'm not supposed to know you're here. It would ruin the effect. You're supposed to be creeping into my room, right?"

"Fine," Ivan said, looking at Alfred a bit skeptically. He returned to his spot just outside the clearing, waiting for Alfred's signal.

"Go!" Alfred called, closing his eyes and falling limp on the rock. He heard a couple steps over to his left but then there was silence. He shifted a little to make himself more comfortable, trying not to chew on his lip as he waited for Ivan to start. It wasn't like the large boy could be _this_ quiet when he walked. He wasn't a cat.

Alfred thought he heard another small crunch and then nothing. He was getting a bit nervous. Maybe Ivan _could_ be that quiet. Maybe he left or something, and Alfred was just lying here like an idiot. He took a breath, trying to calm himself. If he was nervous during rehearsal it'd be even worse when they were filming.

Ivan took a light step, landing almost entirely on his toe. Then he took another, letting it down as slowly as possible. There was no noise with the step, his eyes locked on Alfred's motionless form. He felt his chest tighten for just a moment, and he swallowed. Another step. This time there was a twig and it cracked. Ivan froze, waiting to see if Alfred would open his eyes.

And immediately he felt like an idiot.

Of _course_ Alfred's eyes wouldn't open. He was _acting_ for God's sake. And Ivan was being stupid, sneaking around like he was actually trying to trick someone. He'd gotten a bit carried away.

At once the footsteps returned, quieter than the first time but still noticeable. Alfred relaxed, pinpointing with his ears Ivan's location. He was very close. Only a foot or so away from the rock. Another step and he was right there. Alfred felt the hair on his arms prickle.

Then there was the shuffling of cloth. Alfred could almost hear Ivan crouching down next to him, and then the rustling of his sleeve as his hand came back. Pulling an imaginary bow. He could picture with clarity exactly what Ivan was doing; down on one knee, arrow ready. In just a second he'd get up, Cupid refusing to shoot Psyche.

All of these visions, so exact in his mind, were probably why he was so shocked when he felt a hand on his cheek.

Immediately Alfred's eyes shot open. His hands nearly slammed into the rock as he braced himself, staring up in astonishment at an equally surprised Ivan. The hand recoiled and Ivan stood. He backed away a little.

"What was _that?_" Alfred asked, but he couldn't make the words as forceful as he wanted. Ivan shrugged quickly, trying to look as unsuspecting as possible.

"Hand slipped."

"From _what?_"

"Never mind," Ivan said, swallowing. "I think we can do this without practice. Let's go back."

Alfred watched Ivan for a second before he got up. They started back down the path in silence, and all that Ivan could think was, _Stupid. Couldn't be more stupid._

* * *

><p>"It was kind of weird. Like he was touching my face and stuff."<p>

Alfred's mother's eyebrows shot up. "Did he do anything else?"

"Nah," Alfred said with a shrug, taking a sip of his soda through the straw. The unwrapped hamburger sat on his lap as he looked out the car window, fresh from the McDonald's drive-through. "'Cept he was acting all funky about it later. Like pretending he didn't do anything."

"Well," Alfred's mother said. "Just make sure he doesn't do anything else like that. He seems like a good kid."

"He's okay."

There was a bit of quiet, the natural lull in a conversation. Then, "Did I tell you about the other movie thing?"

Alfred's mother shook her head. "What 'other movie thing?'"

"There are these three guys in the year ahead of me who're making a movie. Like, I kind of get what the plot is about, like in this school and there's drugs and stuff. And two of 'em are gay together. But that's not the point. 'Cause they were filming this scene in the English room and they started this fight. I guess it was in the script. So I thought it was real and tried to stop it. And apparently I got recruited into the movie, because they didn't want to redo the scene. So yeah. I'm gonna be in a movie."

Alfred's mothers sat quietly through all of this, a light smile forming on her lips. "You see? You're making lots of friends."

Alfred sighed. His mother had been fairly obsessed with how many friends he'd made since he'd entered high school. Apparently whenever he made one it was like some huge celebration. Alfred didn't get the point.

"I guess. There's this one guy, the main character. I think. He's all punk and stuff. His name's Arthur."

Alfred's mother seemed to think about this for a moment. "Arthur what?"

"Kirkland. I think. I don't remember. It's kind of a weird last name."

"Right…" Alfred's mother brought both hands onto the steering wheel. "What does he look like?"

That was unexpected. Alfred wasn't quite sure why his mom seemed so interested in this one kid. "He has blond hair. Kind of short and messy. Like someone shaved Legolas and it grew back a little." Alfred contemplated this. "Only not. Like that color. And he has a lot of piercings and stuff. And…" he paused for a moment, searching in his mind for an eye color. The only time he'd really been close enough to see was…oh yeah. Immediately his mind shot back (as it had been doing at fairly unfortunate intervals) to earlier that day. Had it really only been a few hours? Since Arthur had been holding him down and…ugh. "Green eyes. His eyes are green."

"Hm." Alfred's mother looked a bit troubled by this. Alfred couldn't fathom why. "Are you good friends with him?"

"Not really. I guess. I don't think he particularly likes me…" …scratch that. "Yeah. We kind of are."

"What does he wear? Usually?"

Alfred blinked, and the pieces started falling into place. "Like…like plaid pants and stuff. Skinny jeans. Like emo stuff…but with color. Punk, I guess." But there was no way what he was thinking could be right. No way. No way at all.

"Do you know how old he is?"

No way. No. "17. Maybe…maybe 18…I think." No way.

"Oh," Alfred's mother nodded, still looking a bit perturbed. "Okay. Thank you."

"…why?" Alfred thought he had the answer, and it disturbed him. Arthur…he was gay, right? And taken. So there was no way…

"No reason. Just thinking."

Alfred looked down at the hamburger still sitting on his lap, picking it up to take a bite. There was a long stretch of silence as he ate and his mother drove, until there was no more fast food and they were home.

* * *

><p>"You're going to lose this time," Kiku said calmly, nose wrinkling a little as his thumbs twitched over the game controller. He managed to land a hit on Alfred's character, using the moment of weakness to unleash a combo he'd been saving up the whole battle.<p>

"Yeah you are."

"That's…" but Kiku didn't try to continue. With Alfred conversations of this mundane variety would be circular and endless. And Alfred was perfectly aware of this. He smiled evilly in the glow of the TV, putting his full body into the next attack. Kiku's character was suspended in midair, in a constant state of flying backwards as punch after punch was delivered straight into his stomach. Alfred's character spun around, finishing the obscenely large combo with a kick straight into the air. Kiku's character fell to the ground in a heap, and the "Battle Over" sign came up.

"I think that's a new record," Alfred said with a smirk. "Twenty-three seconds." With that he stretched and set the controller down on the bed.

That day at school had been rather uneventful. Just classes and more classes. Alfred had decided that a boring day needed to be punctuated with interesting things, so he'd invited Kiku over for some good ol' fighting games. Head to head.

There was a light buzzing noise coming from just under Alfred's leg. He scooted over, retrieving his thus-far forgotten phone from under a layer of blankets. He flipped the phone open.

"My character had less health. You didn't give me enough time to—"

"Wait wait wait. Shhhh!" Alfred waved his hand at Kiku, eyes glued to his most recent incoming text message. A large smile stretched across his face.

"Who is it?" Kiku asked lightly, leaning in a little.

"Sunflower!" Alfred said happily. "She didn't say anything for days and now she's back. Look!"

Kiku's eyebrows rose a little as he glanced over the message. A warm smile stretched across his lips and he looked back up at Alfred. "Wonderful." Alfred nodded enthusiastically.

_I'm sorry it's been so long, my love. And I think you may be able to meet me soon._

* * *

><p><em>So there is plot in our midst! Bwah hah haaa!<em>

_Review? And if you can point out any typos I'll give you a pony. Poland's pony._


	12. It Starts with G

_People. Ugh. School. Ugh. Life. Ugh._

_I'm so sorry this took so long to get out. I really wrote most of it today during class. I've just been so busy that I honestly haven't had a moment to work on this. But never fear! NaNoWriMo started yesterday and maybe I'll try to get 50000 words out of this this month. Maybe. Don't hold me to it._

_Anyway, enjoy! There will be more Ivan next chapter ;)_

* * *

><p>Alfred opened his eyes slowly as a beeping filled the room, a sound unfamiliar. He blinked, propping himself up on his elbows with great effort. The beeping was coming from some place to his right, low down. All Alfred could think was that he had to get it to stop. As quickly as physically possible.<p>

There was a rustle and a click, and the beeping was gone. Alfred glanced blearily at the door, half expecting his mother to be there. But no. The room was empty...unless...

"Morning, Al," a light voice drifted up over the bed. Alfred blinked at him, vision blurry. Why was there someone in his room? And on the floor, no less. And how did they know his name?

"Who're you?" he asked, more in bewilderment than anything else. The boy on the floor sighed.

"It's Matthew, Al. Mattie?" Alfred looked lost. "Not this again," he continued in exasperation.

And then it all started coming back. Alfred's mouth opened a little, forming an "o." Matthew. Cousin. Staying over. Right. After the events of the day before Alfred had forgotten and apparently (according to what Matt had said) this wasn't the first time. Oh well.

"So, uh, you gonna go out with Mom again?" Alfred asked, sitting up on the side of the bed.

"I think I'll just stay home," Matthew said, shaking his head.

"You could probably come to school. Chill with me during lunch or something," Alfred offered. Matthew looked unsure.

"Are you sure that's okay?" he asked, finally sitting up. Alfred nodded.

"Why not? It's not like anyone'd notice or anything," Alfred explained. Matthew looked as though he was about to speak but then he closed his mouth. He looked down, nodding a bit grimly.

"Yeah, you're right."

It took Alfred a moment to realize what he'd said. "No, man, I didn't mean it like that," he corrected, leaning forward. "I just meant that, like, they wouldn't notice anybody. Like it doesn't matter." Matthew nodded again. "Come on, you know I remember you."

"Not this morning," Matthew sighed, biting his lip.

"What happened to 'Alfred can't be held accountable for anything in the morning?'" Alfred asked, trying to make a joke. Matthew looked up, a mirthful grin on his face. Alfred's jaw dropped.

"Just joking," Matthew said slyly.

"I hate you sometimes," Alfred said. "I was really worried there!" He glared.

Matthew laughed. "Offer still up?" he asked.

"Whatever," Alfred pouted, crossing his arms. "I'm not so sure now."

"Then I'll stalk you there," Matthew affirmed, flattening his messy bedhead. Well, Alfred assumed it was messy. He wasn't really blessed with 20/20 vision.

"Matt. Glasses," Alfred said, pretending to be blind as he pawed around the bed.

"Here, Helen," Matthew said, handing Alfred his glasses. Alfred took them quickly, a look of horror plastered on his face.

"Matthew!" he scolded, "That's not cool!"

Mattie grinned.

Ah, how nice to be among friends.

"So, how are you and that Sunflower girl going?" Matthew asked from within the bathroom, a few minutes later. Alfred stopped what he was doing, shirt halfway up his arms and eyes wide. Oh yeah. Her.

This was gonna be an awesome day.

* * *

><p>"<em>Laaaaaa~!<em>"

Alfred spun around the kitchen, singing as high as he could and clutching his phone in his hands. His mother didn't pay much attention—he'd been doing this for the past half hour or so. She'd decided to let it cool off before she asked him what exactly was going on.

"Alfred," she tried.

There was no response. Alfred spun around again, grinning more widely than she'd ever seen before. He flipped open his phone, whirling to a stop as he hit the counter. He leaned against it as he started to type in a quick message.

_So frickn excited. When?_

"Alfred?" his mother tried again, a bit louder.

"Huh?" His eyes snapped up, widening. It was as though he hadn't even noticed her there.

"What's up?"

His mouth opened for a moment before he smiled and pushed off from the counter. He started spinning again. "Noth_iiiiing!_" he sang, his phone clicking as it snapped shut again.

"So you expect me—" his mother started, realizing that her son wasn't listening. She reached forward, catching him mid-spin. His eyes flew open as he found himself not at all where he'd been a moment before. He looked up at his mother, his head tilting back even more than usual with the awkward position. "So you expect me to believe that?" she continued, raising an eyebrow.

He blinked before nodding. She sighed, shaking her head. "It'll take a little more than that."

Alfred broke out of the mother-hold. "Um, so it's kind of a long story," he said, looking considerably less excited than before.

"And you were spinning around the kitchen. I have time."

Alfred took a deep breath. "Um, okay. But you gotta tell me something too."

"We'll jump that hurdle when we get to it. Talk."

"Right," Alfred started, pocketing his phone. "So, um, there's this girl. Only, I haven't really…met her? Per se. But I know she's real and stuff because she gave me a bunch of notes and put this huge banner on the wall saying how much she liked me and stuff. And so we've been texting and she said that pretty soon I'm gonna be able to meet her so…I was kind of excited?"

Alfred's mother raised her eyebrows as the story went on, and as Alfred's voice peaked a little at the end in question she smiled. "Well then. It looks like someone has a secret admirer."

"Not secret much longer," Alfred said proudly, grinning. He started bopping back and forth to some unheard song, dancing a little in place. His mother smiled fondly.

"Good luck."

"Wai-wai-wait," Alfred said, holding up a finger. "You said you'd answer me now."

His mother crossed her arms. "Right. Ask away, then."

"Why were you asking all those questions about Arthur?" Alfred was considerably less excited now, more anxious than anything. He had to make sure his idea of the origin of his mother's curiosity was wrong.

"No reason," she answered nonchalantly. "Just wondering."

"Nope. That doesn't work on me anymore."

"I just thought I'd seen him before."

"Where?"

"Nowhere in particular. Just around."

"Then why did you care what color his _eyes _were?"

"Look, Alfred," she said, "I don't know what you're thinking but whatever it is you're wrong."

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed. "And how do you know that?"

"Because I'm your mother. I know you."

"But he's only, like, in high school."

Alfred's mother looked as though she was about to say something but then she stopped. For a moment she watched Alfred strangely. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean…if you…you know what I mean."

"I don't think I do."

Ah, dammit. She was going to make him say it, wasn't she? "Like, if you…um…and him…and then you didn't know who he was…but he's gay, so…"

Alfred's mother stared at her son, mouth falling open. "You think I…you think I _slept_ with him?"

It sounded even worse when she said it than when Alfred had thought it. "…well, y'know. Not really. It was just a…nothing…"

"Alfred," his mother scolded. "I don't appreciate that."

"Um, I know," he said, shrinking under her gaze. "I was just…but why won't you tell me?"

She faltered for a second but then quickly regained her stern glare. "Because there's nothing to tell."

Alfred looked down, kicking the floor a little. His whole good mood from before was gone. "Right."

"Now, you should get ready. It's almost time for school."

Alfred nodded dumbly before turning and leaving the kitchen. However many times he'd ever told himself to stand up for himself he still wasn't very good at it. Even to his own mother (or, rather _especially_ to his own mother) he cowered and let people yell at him. He supposed he should stop.

Alfred grabbed his backpack from the living room and slung it over his shoulder. He was already going to be a little late for class, but since it was only gym he'd be okay. He missed it a lot anyway, and being a little late to one class wouldn't have much effect on his grade. Much.

"M'going," he called back as he opened the front door, hopping out onto the steps. Then he started on his way, shoulders shrugged up high. He made sure it really looked like he was skulking as he passed the kitchen window, hoping his mother would see. She usually looked outside to watch him go.

There was a minute or so of silent walking before Alfred heard the footsteps behind him. He glanced back.

"Alfred!" the voice that had become all-too familiar called to him. He stopped, waiting for Ivan to catch up. It would be an understatement to say he was surprised, but there'd been so much surprise lately that this was really nothing.

"I didn't know you walked this way," Alfred said, in lieu of small talk. They continued up the sidewalk.

"I don't," Ivan said. "I usually drive. But _сестра_ took the car and so I am here." He smiled lightly.

"Sucks for you," Alfred said sympathetically. "I just gotta walk every day. 'Cause I can't drive yet."

"You will learn," Ivan said. Alfred shrugged. Ivan stared at him for a moment. "What is wrong?"

"Nothing," Alfred said. "My mom. She was all mad cause I thought she slept with this guy only she didn't." Ivan snorted out a laugh, Alfred turning to him immediately in anger. "What's so funny?"

"The way you phrased that was interesting," Ivan answered mirthfully. "I have never heard that before."

"Whatever," Alfred said. It wasn't really working and Ivan laughed again.

"Anything else interesting happen?" Ivan asked, raising his eyebrows inquisitively. "See anything interesting…talk to any interesting people…learn anything new?"

Oh, right. Sunflower. Sunflower! "Actually, I was talking to this one person and…"

But wait. This was Ivan. Ivan the one who used to make Alfred feel like shit. Ivan the one who was scary. Ivan the one who was creepy. And even if they were starting to become friends, kind of, Alfred wasn't sure if Sunflower was something he should share.

"And?" Ivan prompted. Alfred shrugged.

"Nothing. Just talking to this one girl."

"Oh," Ivan said, face a bit darker than before. "And who would that be?"

"Um…nobody. Just some person I was talking to. Nothing big."

Ivan nodded. "And how are you talking to this person?"

"Texting."

Immediately Ivan's persona changed. He smiled, seeming to almost lift up. "Do you like this person?"

"Yeah, kinda."

Ivan's happiness was apparent now. He was weird, what with his constant mood swings. And weird questions. Though not as weird as his mother's, Alfred had to concede. But the margin was thin.

"I am happy for you," Ivan said, gazing wistfully ahead. "Good luck."

"I hope so. Hey, you think she's, like, hot and stuff?"

"Could be," Ivan said, before rethinking it. "Yes. Most definitely." He flashed a really uncharacteristic smile in Alfred's direction. If the shorter boy hadn't known better he'd have thought there was a skip in Ivan's step.

Strange.

* * *

><p>"Yo! Alfie!"<p>

Alfred jumped at the sound, shoving his backpack into his locker as quickly as possible. Calls like that were usually followed by less savory things, like getting tripped or pushed into stuff. He clenched his jaw in preparation, but the violence never came.

Instead, he turned to see Gilbert jogging toward him, backpack lazily slung over a bony shoulder. Alfred froze. Gilbert. Oh shit. Gilbert. _The_ Gilbert. The one who was…with…on the rock…and…oh crap. Alfred couldn't let him know that he knew about Ms. Héderváry. Bad things would happen. Bad, bad things. Gilbert was more muscular than him, a bit taller, angrier. Alfred swallowed thickly, biting his lip.

"Hey, man!" Gilbert greeted as he approached. "We're filming again today. During lunch. This time we need you to actually learn some lines and stuff."

Alfred processed the request before biting his lip a bit more than a little apprehensively. "Um…yeah, about that…"

"Artie's not gonna molest you again, I swear," Gilbert promised, holding up his hands. "We talked to him about that. We gotta keep you around."

"So…what happens?"

"In the scene? Well, Frenchie and Artie make up and get back together, and then they go to you and stuff gets all better only then the dean comes with cops and tries to arrest people, and then there's some cool stuff. Only we're just doing the making up and you coming in part today. And," Gilbert added with a grin, "Imma makin' an awesome cameo."

"Sounds good," Alfred said, if not a bit awkwardly. Gilbert nodded, oblivious to how reluctant Alfred seemed.

"'kay. See you there. Because you _are_ gonna be there."

"Yeah," Alfred said, trying to make it sound sure and forceful. "Yep, I'll be there."

Gilbert smiled and left, running back down the hallway. Alfred sighed before realizing that he'd closed all of his schoolwork in his locker. So he opened it up again, retrieving his things just as the bell rang. He walked as fast as possible down the hallway, realizing only faintly that he had gym today. With Gilbert. Oh, there was no getting away, was there?

Alfred came to the end of the hallway, where the water fountains sat partially beneath the stairs. And then he stopped.

Arthur and Francis were sitting by the wall, locked tightly at the lip. Arthur had his arms wrapped around Francis's neck, and the latter was pinning him to the wall. They were entirely unaware of anything around them.

Alfred's breath caught and for just a moment…he didn't know. He averted his eyes, but only a moment later they were back. His face remained blank as his eyes wandered over the two, and for some…some reason…he didn't know. But there was something there. Something…something he hadn't expected. This faint aching in his chest, and somehow…it was entirely foreign. He swallowed, tightening his grip on his notebook. This was…what, dammit? Why?

He needed to get to class. He was late enough as is.

* * *

><p>That moment had not left Alfred's mind, and all he could do was puzzle through it in wonder. It couldn't have just been a normal reaction-nothing like this had happened before and Alfred had definitely seen people kissing before. A lot. And yet he'd never felt the urge to just stop and stare like that, to watch them and what the hell was going on? Gym passed in a blur, Alfred's thoughts too far removed to participate very well. It was as though the image of Arthur and Francis was burned into his mind and no matter how he tried he couldn't shake it.<p>

This feeling also couldn't be repulsion. Alfred was in far too much wonder for that. He sat in study hall, replaying those moments in the hall again and again. It was just two people kissing, right? No biggie. But, of course, there was a major difference.

Arthur and Francis were both guys.

Alfred's mouth got a little dry and he bit his lip. That shouldn't matter. They had really been going at it-maybe it had just been surprise. And, then again, there was that shadow in his mind, one that was very new and foreboding. One Alfred couldn't even wrap a bit of his brain around. Because he _wasn't_. He _couldn't be_. Alfred Jones was not gay.

There. He said it. Not gay. Because it was only logical. He liked _girls_. He'd always liked girls. With long hair and makeup and dresses-_that_ did it for him. He liked Sunflower. HER. A girl. He'd always imagined her as this pretty young woman, with a sunflower tucked behind her ear. Wearing a sundress. He liked that image. It was good. Nice. Case closed. Not gay. There was nothing _wrong _with being gay, but he wasn't.

_But then,_ the ominous shadow in his head said, _there's always another option._

No.

_But yes_.

Alfred stared down at his hands, fidgeting absently on the table.

Arthur.

Alfred may have liked girls but...there could be an exception, right? Just one. And it was the only answer that made sense to him. Maybe he liked girls...but maybe...maybe Arthur, too. It would explain what happened when they were filming...it seemed like an eternity ago.

As he repeated the words in his head, Alfred grew more confident. He could be straight and still kind of like Arthur too. Nothing wrong with a little crush, especially when Arthur was already taken. A love doomed to be unrequited...no, not a "love." it was just a little crush. A little bit of barely anything at all. It would explain so much, and then when Alfred finally met Sunflower they'd hit it off and then he'd be free to date her because of _course _he wasn't really gay and...and...

Perfect.

As if on cue Alfred's phone went off in his pocket. He was giddy, and when he saw the word "Sunflower" in the caller id his grin nearly broke his face. It was so good to have figured this all out. So damn good.

_Whenever you feel you are ready, love._

* * *

><p><em>Review? And if you can point out any typos I'll give you a napkin with Leonard Nimoy's DNA. (5 points if you got that)<em>


	13. I LIKE you

_I'm _

_So_

_Sorry_

_This took way too long. But school has been a pain, and I just haven't had any time. Or motivation. But then I got one lovely review just a day or so ago and had to continue. So I bring to you now an angst-filled chapter. Of angst. And kissing..._

_(And I know I'm pretty stupid for posting this on Thanksgiving...but I'm relying on you non-Americans out there XD)_

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><p>Once again it was time for the infamous English class. Alfred bopped all the way there, certain he wouldn't be able to concentrate. He was one of the first people in their seats, and he stared out the window, however far away it was. It was getting to be late in the month, and already teachers were putting up Halloween decorations. Stores advertised huge inflatable pumpkins and animatronic skeletons, and kids in the hall had started talking about whether they'd be going trick-or-treating and what they'd wear.<p>

Alfred went every year, and every year up until this one he'd worn a superhero costume. In sixth grade he was Batman, in seventh the Flash and in eighth he'd dressed up as Iron Man. Ninth grade had been a stressful year so Alfred had resorted to painting himself green and parading around town as the Hulk's scrawny little brother. The previous year, tenth grade, Alfred had gone as Spiderman, having forfeited any more complicated plans when the holiday had kind of snuck up on him.

This year, however, Alfred was starting to run out of ideas. There were only so many superheroes that could be recognized by the general public, and he hated having to explain his costume to everyone at every single door. He couldn't really get his mother's help with this predicament, as she would probably just tell him that "he was sixteen now, and maybe he should stop the whole trick-or-treating business."

Of course, all these thoughts about Halloween and costumes were fleeting. Because, as they had been earlier, Alfred's thoughts were entirely consumed by Sunflower. The girl he'd been waiting to see for what seemed like an eternity now. And, on top of that, it seemed as though within the past few hours he'd done a lot of soul-searching and he believed he'd figured himself out. Or, at least, he had discovered something that he could deal with.

As other students began to file into the classroom Alfred's mind turned back to Arthur. Arthur. He pictured the older boy in his head, from his messy hair to his clothes to his face and to his eyes. There was certainly no doubt that Arthur was attractive (even with those eyebrows), Alfred told himself. And since it was okay to like him it was okay to think these things. So Alfred may have found a boy attractive, but since it was just Arthur it was okay, right?

But something different was clawing at him now. A subtle whisper in his mind, one that seemed to creep up on him and then disappear. But it almost seemed…almost seemed as though all this was forced. Like…like maybe he was just telling himself he liked Arthur. Like maybe it wasn't true, that it was just the easiest alternative. The escape. Why was this so confusing? Maybe things weren't as clear as he'd thought them to be.

Okay, he thought, down to the basics.

1) Arthur and Francis were making out and Alfred had been…um…ah, hell with it. He'd been interested.

2) Alfred liked thinking about girls too.

3) Alfred thought Arthur was good-looking.

4) …confused.

"Hello, Alfred."

The blond boy was yanked from his reverie, and he blinked up at Ivan in surprise. The taller boy said the same thing every time he saw Alfred, in exactly the same tone. The same greeting. He'd make the "h" hard and the "r" would roll and…well, maybe Alfred was just in a speculative mood today. There was no valid reason he should be having all these thoughts.

"Hey," he responded, trying to pull himself from his thoughts and back into the real world. "'sup?"

"Nothing of importance," Ivan said, looking quite pleased with himself. "How has your morning been?"

"Um, okay. 'm just tired," Alfred said, and it wasn't really a lie. Alfred was not a morning person, and though it approached lunchtime he was still a little groggy. For effect he rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his palm. Ivan grinned, sitting down in his seat. He clasped his hands in front of him.

"Alfred, may I ask you a question?"

Alfred nodded, leaning back in his chair. He was mid-yawn when Ivan spoke again.

"Are you gay?"

The shorter boy choked on his own spit, careening forward and catching himself on his desk as he coughed. It took him a moment to catch his breath, and when he did he looked up at Ivan in surprise.

"_What?"_

"Do you like boys?" Ivan explained in a second question, smiling complacently at Alfred.

Alfred gaped at him, unable to form words. The inquiry had been so unexpected that he honestly couldn't think of a thing to say. "Um…no…"

"You do not sound so sure," Ivan said, smirking. Though it wasn't his scary smirk, the one that said _I hate you_. This was a nice one. A friendly one.

"I…I _am _sure," Alfred tried again, but he knew Ivan wouldn't take that. The older boy simply smiled, waiting patiently for the real answer. Alfred took a deep breath. "Okay, so…I don't think I'm gay. I just…um…I just like…never mind." Why was he even saying this to Ivan in the first place?

"You like someone? A boy, perhaps?"

"Uh…kinda."

"And who would that be?" Ivan asked, voice, still rather pleasant. His smile looked a bit strained now, although not unhappy.

"Um…not…nobody, really," Alfred answered.

"Not nobody?"

"Shut up."

Ivan's face lightened. "So who is it?"

Alfred sighed, looking around cautiously. "You can't tell anyone, you know?"

"Of course."

"So…" Alfred was still unsure. It _seemed_ like he could kind of trust Ivan now, but maybe…ah, hell with it. "You know that one guy? Who's doing the movie thing…the British guy?"

Ivan's lips parted and his eyes widened in disbelief. "Arthur _Kirkland_."

"…yeah."

"The one who _molested_ you." Ivan's voice was stronger now, angrier. His fingers were gripping the back of his seat tightly now, knuckles whitening.

"It wasn't…" Alfred searched for words to fit. "It wasn't _that_ bad…I mean…"

"Did he or did he _not_ touch you inappropriately?" Ivan sounded like a teacher now, reprimanding an unruly student. Alfred closed his eyes in frustration, sensing how futile this argument was going to be.

"Why do you even _care_ so much?"

Ivan looked as though he was about to answer but then he stopped. He watched Alfred for a moment before sighing and massaging the bridge of his nose with two fingers. "I care because I am your…I _care_ because I am your _friend_." The last word came out a bit jerkily, as though Ivan really didn't want to say it. "I do not want you to be hurt."

"It's not like I'm gonna ask him out or something," Alfred said after a moment, eyes following Ms. Héderváry as she entered the room. He just wanted something else to look at as he spoke, because making eye contact with Ivan was becoming more uncomfortable by the second.

"You will not?" Ivan asked skeptically. "How can you guarantee?"

"I don't _need_ to," Alfred said a bit harshly, eyes snapping back to Ivan. "Especially not to you." The taller boy's eyes widened and he looked hurt. "But if you _want _to know…I mean…it's just some little thing. Like I don't _obsess_ over him or something. It's like a…a crush or whatever." His voice was a bit quieter at the end, eyes flicking around the room.

Ivan visibly relaxed, turning forward in his seat again and slumping against the back of the chair. "Of course. It is none of my business."

Alfred was about to answer, to ask him _why_ he cared so much and _why_ he was so quick to let it go…but, as if on cue, Ms. Héderváry started the class.

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><p>The bell rang, all the students in the class hopping up and rushing out the door. Alfred always took a bit longer to get his stuff together, mostly because he never watched the clock and didn't get his books in order earlier. Ivan stayed until Alfred was done, probably wanting to walk out with him. Because Ivan was clingy like that.<p>

"Alfred," Ivan said as the named boy closed his binder, standing up.

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember that comic book you were going to give me?"

Alfred blinked, searching his memory. Then, after a long moment, it came to him. "Oh, shit. Yeah. I completely forgot. What one was that?"

"I don't know. You did not tell me."

"Right…" Alfred trailed off, biting his lip in thought. "I dunno. You could probably pick one. When you come over."

Ivan seemed to process this for a moment before his face lit up brighter than Alfred had ever seen. "_When_ I come over?"

"Yeah…weren't you? For the…um…the project…?"

"Of course!" Ivan said quickly. Then he closed his eyes, smile fading just a little as he regained his composure. "Do you have costumes?"

"Yeah. I think so. Just some sheets and stuff, right?" Alfred was far more comfortable now, talking about concrete things. Things they needed, stuff they were going to do…it was all much better than that feely-emotion stuff.

Ivan nodded and they started out of the classroom. Ms. Héderváry watched them as they went through the door, silent. Alfred started off toward his locker, Ivan following. They were quiet for a while, a question forming in Alfred's mind. He glanced quickly up at Ivan, wondering if he should ask. Oh well. Couldn't hurt.

Alfred bit his lip, hand tightening on his books. "Ivan," he finally said, staring determinedly at the wall.

"Yes?"

"Are…you?"

Ivan smiled lightly. "Am I what?"

"Uh…gay? Are you…gay?"

Ivan chuckled, looking down at Alfred in slight amusement. "Undoubtedly," he said.

Oh. Right.

Of course.

* * *

><p><em>Im ready whenever<em>

Alfred hit send, smiling up at Kiku. "You going to come with me? When she says where to meet her?"

Kiku shrugged. "That depends. It cannot be this afternoon. I will be out."

"Damn," Alfred said. "I was going to ask you to come over. To film."

"Film what?"

"Me and Ivan."

Kiku's eyes shot wide and he stared at Alfred for a moment. "Doing…what?"

"English project. What did you think we were—" Alfred stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening as well. "What…God, Kiku! What the hell?"

"I don't know," Kiku said, shaking his head and looking down. "I don't know."

Alfred's face was still contorted in mock horror. "How could you even _think_ that?"

Kiku shook his head some more, as though trying to get rid of something inside it. "Never mind. How will you film it without me?"

"I dunno. Probably just put the camera in a tree or something. Nothing too complicated."

There was a bit of silence, and then a light buzzing noise. Alfred snatched his phone off of the lunch table, flipping it open before it could vibrate a second time. He glanced up at Kiku, who nodded reassuringly. Then his eyes flicked down, running over the new message.

_Today, then. In the back courtyard after school._

Alfred's face broke into a grin, one that widened by the second. "Today!" he nearly cried, "After school." He snapped the phone shut, bouncing in his seat. "This is gonna be awesooome…"

"Calm down, Alfred," Kiku said, raising one eyebrow.

"You know what this means? This means there's only _two more hours_ until I _meet _frickin' _Sunflower_. _Two_!" He planted a hand on Kiku's shoulder, staring at him seriously. "Do you know what this _means_?"

"I'm sure you'll tell me."

"This means that in _two hours_ I'm going to have a _girlfriend_," he said, smile threatening at the corners of his mouth. "Me. Alfred Jones. A _girlfriend_."

Kiku nodded. "That is usually what they are called."

"You wouldn't understand. You got your internet girlfriend, don't you?"

Kiku nodded, but he almost seemed to falter before he responded. "Yes. Of course."

"So you don't know what it feels like to be _alooone…_" Alfred finished dramatically, hand resting on his forehead as he pretended to swoon over the table. Kiku snorted.

"I'm sure your king will be wonderful," the small boy said. Alfred cracked an eye open.

"What?"

"Since you are such a queen."

Alfred didn't even have the heart to huff at that. He just smiled. "I'm down."

Kiku shook his head in dismissal, closing his lunchbox. Alfred's spaghetti had probably gotten cold, but that was definitely not the first thing on his mind. Sunflower. Today. _Meeting_. Like _face to face. _Heh. Face to face. If only.

Alfred's phone buzzed again and he picked it up. His eyes ran over the message, a light smile still planted unconsciously on his face. "Mattie says he can't come. He was gonna be here for lunch but I guess something else happened."

Kiku looked like he was about to answer but then he was cut off.

"Alfie!"

A rough voice came, calling his name across the cafeteria. Alfred held up a finger to Kiku, turning in his seat. Hie eyes searched for the person who had called his name, and at once he saw Gilbert, waving widely from the doors. Oh shit.

"Get your scrawny butt over here!" Gilbert called, and here and there eyes fell to Alfred. He sighed, picking up his tray. Kiku raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

As Alfred got closer Gilbert jogged over to him, snatching the tray from his hands and dumping it before Alfred got a chance to say anything. "We gotta get going! You're late!"

"Yeah, I just forgot—"

"No excuses!" Gilbert's hand closed around Alfred's wrist and the younger boy was jerked out of the cafeteria, sent dashing down the hall after the other boy. Along the way, Gilbert started to debrief Alfred as to what was going to happen. "We decided to ditch the script idea. Just remember that you gotta react like you would normally. Just pretend like all this stuff is really happening, okay?"

"Do we _have_ to run?" Alfred asked, panting. He tripped a little, but as Gilbert jerked him forward it was almost impossible to fall.

"Yeah, man! You gotta be tired! Francis just chased you all around the school and now he's gonna try to kill you!"

They rounded a corner, and Gilbert's hand was gone. Alfred stumbled forward as Gilbert fell away, hearing a loud _"Action!"_ behind him.

He didn't have enough time to react before a hand closed on the back of his collar and he was yanked backwards. Alfred cried out as he fell, just catching himself on his hands. Pain shot through his palms and up his arms but that was the least of his worries.

"You bastard!"

Alfred blinked up at a face only inches from his own. Francis glared coldly, face flushed. "You thieving _bastard!"_

"What did I do?" Alfred asked, trying to tell himself that this was all just for the movie. Just the movie. But _damn_ Francis was convincing.

"You _know_ what you did!" Francis snarled, accent coloring words that were already menacing. He shoved Alfred into the floor. "Arthur is _mine!_"

"But—" _Just a movie_. "—no! He doesn't like you!" Francis looked genuinely surprised as Alfred pushed him, getting to his feet. "He chose me!"

Quickly Alfred glanced over to Gilbert, who gave him a thumbs up, eye glued to the camcorder. Francis's eyes darkened and he stepped forward. "I am _all_ Arthur wants. I've given him everything he's ever wanted. What can _you_ give him?" Hands slammed into Alfred's chest, making him stumble back. "A body? Compliments? You are _so_ beneath him!"

Alfred was about to answer, his mouth opening a little. This…this _was_ just for the movie, right? He stopped, staring at Francis in shock. He was really so beneath Arthur, wasn't he? That crush…it was on someone so far out of his league…and maybe that's why he had it. Maybe it wasn't even a crush at all. Maybe…maybe it was just some kind of placeholder. Having his eye on someone he'd never get because it was safe. Safe.

But this was just a movie. No need for important personal revelations.

"He was using you!" Alfred suddenly cried. "Why the hell would he want _you_?" Once again he glanced over at Gilbert, whose face was now in what seemed like a permanent grin.

Francis's mouth opened as though he was about to yell, but the sound was caught in his throat. "I'm perfect."

"Apparently not."

"But I do everything! I've done everything right! And then _you _come along…"

"Because you aren't what he wants."

"That's a lie."

Both Alfred and Francis turned to see who had spoken, although they both knew. Arthur watched them, eyes watering. "It's a lie."

"What—" Alfred started. He saw where this was going.

"I love you, Francis," Arthur said, looking down. "I do."

Just a movie, Alfred thought as he looked for something to say that would move the scene forward. "You…what about…"

Arthur stepped toward Alfred, Francis growling slightly. "I do…like you."

Just a movie. "Like. Just _like?"_

"Don't…" Arthur looked away for a moment. Then, without warning, he brought his face up, catching Alfred's lips.

Alfred couldn't do anything, freezing in place. He stared at Arthur with wide eyes for a long moment. Then he heard some light whispering. _"We're still filming, you dolt_."

Right. Alfred took a deep breath through his nose before he…shit, he started to kiss Arthur back. _Just a movie just a movie just a movie just a movie just a movie…_

It was a second before Arthur broke away. "Just…just _like_." Then he turned to Francis and said something. Alfred wasn't really paying attention. He stared at Arthur and Francis blankly, not really comprehending what they were doing. They spoke for a moment, yelled, Gilbert moved in close with the camera and then they kissed. Kissed. Yeah. Right. Alfred wiped lightly at his lips, eyes still wide.

"Cut!"

Alfred snapped back into reality. Francis and Arthur broke apart, the former coming over to Alfred. "Are you okay?"

"Uh…yeah."

"You see what you do, Arthur?" Francis scolded. "That was going a bit far."

"Hey, it worked," Arthur shot back, smirking at Alfred. "Good job."

"That still wasn't cool, man," Gilbert said, but it was obvious he found the whole situation quite hilarious. He patted Alfred's back hard, as though he was trying to smack the manliness back into him. "Great acting, though. You play a queer pretty good, kid."

Of course. Alfred swallowed, smiling a bit awkwardly at Gilbert. "Um…I need to go."

"Thank you," Arthur said, waving. Alfred nodded, walking quickly off in some direction. Well, this was interesting. Interesting indeed. He tried to turn his thoughts to Sunflower, but all he could think was how Arthur looked today. And how he'd been wearing vanilla chapstick.

Shit. This thing might be real.

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><p>The two hours passed like molasses, gurgling along so slowly and boringly Alfred was close to pulling all his hair out. But, of course, he didn't do that, because Sunflower probably wouldn't want to see some patchy bald guy. Sunflower. Yes. Her. Not Arthur.<p>

But time went by, as it does, and soon the bell signaling that it was the end of the day rang. Alfred was one of the first ones up, nearly dashing to his locker as others were just standing. By the time others were just opening their lockers his was slammed shut and he started down the hallway, over to the door that led to the courtyard in the back of the school. He vaguely realized that it was the same one he'd gone out of with Gilbert for that…fateful filming day. Dear God, the last thing he wanted to think of was Gilbert.

He pushed the doors open with his shoulder, stepping down onto the grass. The courtyard was empty, and Alfred's chest started to tighten nervously. His mind started running through all the possibilities. What if Sunflower had lots of acne? Or she was middle schooler? Or some cougar? What if…what if she was a _teacher_? Alfred huffed out an impatient sigh, sick of all the wondering. And then he heard it. The door.

There was a click as the door opened and closed behind him. Then there were a few steps, stopping as they touched grass. Alfred took a deep breath, wondering what he'd say. He didn't want it to be awkward. Then, heart speeding up, he turned around.

"Hey, I—_ohgodIvan_." Alfred felt the blood rush from his head in some crude mixture of relief and disappointment. He sighed, a hand coming up to massage the bridge of his nose. Ivan smiled.

"Here I am," he said, looking a bit nervous. Alfred wasn't sure he'd ever seen Ivan look anything but confident and (more recently) absolutely crushed.

"Yeah…um…I was just waiting for someone," Alfred said.

"And here I am," Ivan tried again, gesturing to himself. Alfred shook his head.

"Um, no. I mean…someone else. Never mind."

A look of cold realization washed over Ivan's face. His lips formed a small "o," and then he smiled. It looked very forced. "Lovely. Who would this be?"

"Nobody important."

"Alfred," Ivan said warningly, "_Who_ are you waiting for?"

This was a tone Alfred had not heard in a long time. His eyebrows furrowed. "What does it matter?"

"_Alfred!_"

Alfred exploded. "It's nothing, okay? Just this girl, and we've been texting, and I haven't really met her yet and I _thought_ she was going to be here but _apparently not _because _everyone fucking hates me!_ So just _chill!_"

Alfred's nose started stinging, and he swallowed thickly. Ivan stared at him, mouth parted just slightly. Then he looked down, sighing. "Alfred—"

"_What?"_

"I'm sorry. I just wanted to know."

Alfred nodded, sniffling. He wasn't crying this time, thank God. "Right. Let's go," he said curtly.

"Everyone doesn't hate you," Ivan said, not moving. "I don't hate you."

Alfred watched Ivan for a moment, before hiking his backpack up on his shoulder and clearing his throat. "Thanks. Means a lot."

"I like you."

"Yeah," Alfred said, smiling lightly. "Um…thank you."

"No, Alfred, I _like_ you."

Alfred didn't say anything for a moment. Then he smiled a little. "You're forgiven." Then he leaned against the door, pushing it open. "Let's go."

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><p><em>ALFRED. Y U NO UNDERSTAND?<em>

_Review? And if you can point out any typos I'll give you Svalbard._


	14. Brohug

_Hello, my pretties! I updated this fast, huh? And it's so long? Do you know why? Do you? Huh? Huh?_

_It's probably because I LOVE YOU ALL and got heaploads of reviews on the last chapter. I also have some issues to address, however. (Prepare yourselves for a long A/N; if you want you can skip it.)_

_1. USUK. I've had a couple people a bit upset with the developing relationship between Alfred and Arthur and disappointed that it hasn't happened the same for Alfred and Ivan. It had to be that way. I'm sorry. I hope this chapter clears up a bit about why I had to make them so close ;) (And, by the way, there will be a lot more of Ivan in the next chapter.)_

_2. I have *ahem* more than 300 reviews. And it makes me possibly the happiest person alive. :D Or at least the happiest writer. So I have to decide what to do about this hurm hurm hurm. The way I see it, there are a few possibilities. I could do a bunch of oneshots, if you'd like. Or I could, once I finish this, create a sequel or companion fic. Multichapter, of course. Or I could just stop writing XD Whatever you guys like._

_Whew. My fingers hurt already. Or maybe that's from writing this collossal thing all today. Huh. I dunno._

_Enjoy ^^_

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><p>The walk home was quiet, and it took everything in Ivan's power to force himself to breathe. Alfred seemed perfectly content, though he remained silent. All that could be heard were the dull clicks of footsteps on the sidewalk, and they slowly worked their way into Ivan's brain. It was still mid-afternoon but it felt like much later. Breathe in, breathe out. Remain calm.<p>

He'd said it. He'd showed up, he'd told Alfred how he felt and still…still nothing had changed. _Nothing had changed_. You'd think he'd told Alfred that his favorite color was purple, or that he had homework tonight, or that he wasn't fond of tea. Nothing. All that buildup for such…for so much nothing.

"Hey," Alfred said suddenly. Ivan's attention snapped to him, watching the shorter boy intently as he spoke. "I tried to get Kiku to come film but he couldn't. So we're gonna have to find some place to put the video camera."

"A tree," Ivan offered. But this was wrong. This wasn't how things should be. In movies when someone confessed love the other person _understood_. The other person felt the same. They kissed in the rain and then there was a freeze-frame and the movie ended. Roll credits. And they lived happily ever after. This was not happy, nor ever, nor after.

"That's what I was thinking. But I think we also have this tripod thing somewhere, 'cause Mom used to do this whole big photography thing." Alfred's hands slid into his pockets as they walked, and Ivan could see him relaxing.

_Tell him again_, Ivan thought to himself. Tell him that you don't just like him, you _love _him. Make him understand. He has to understand. He has to.

"A tripod would work as well," Ivan said after a moment. He needed to focus. His thoughts were running rampant everywhere, making it impossible to process anything. To _think_. Ivan took a deep breath as they turned the corner into Alfred's walkway. Well, if he couldn't tell Alfred, he'd show him instead.

Ivan took an extra long step, hoping Alfred didn't notice how he moved ahead just a bit. Then his fingers closed around the doorknob, opening it and gesturing for Alfred to go inside. The blond boy gave him a bit of a strange look but still mumbled out a "thank you." Ivan's heart was pounding as he let out a breath, congratulating himself on not screwing that one up. He followed Alfred into the house.

"Hey, Al, I—" Matthew stopped short, mouth open as he saw Ivan. He was sitting on the couch, perched was seemed to be rather uncomfortably on the center cushion. "Um, sorry I couldn't come today," he finished, eyes glued to Ivan.

"It's okay," Alfred said. Then his eyes widened and he turned to Ivan. "Mattie! I forgot!"

Ivan could tell where this was going. "Yes, Alfred?" he asked anyway.

"He can film! Man, completely slipped the mind."

"Big surprise," Matthew commented lightly from the couch, probably rolling his eyes. It was uncanny how much he looked like Alfred, despite being fairly removed genetically. Just take away the long hair and maybe make him a bit shorter…but Alfred was better. He was stronger, he smiled more, his eyes were bluer. He grinned and laughed at everything, he was kind, he told the truth…he couldn't help but be the center of attention. And his face, tanned through inheritance and strong-boned…his smile was like turning on every light in existence. If anything, Ivan should have called him the sunflower. He was sure more like one than Ivan himself was. They were complete opposites, and Alfred was everything Ivan wanted to be. And be around. And be with.

"So can you?" Alfred asked. Ivan snapped back into reality, eyeing Matthew carefully.

"I do not think that will be necessary," he said, trying to sound as nice as possible. But really, it wouldn't be necessary. It would only throw a wrench in the plans Ivan had been forming. Plans that would make Alfred understand. Plans that would make Alfred realize.

"Um…" Matthew swallowed, looking from Alfred to Ivan and back again. "I dunno…I mean…Aunt May wanted me to clean…and…um…"

"C'mon," Alfred said, grinning. Ivan tried not to scowl.

"No, Alfred, it's really alright. This is _our_ project, isn't it?" Ivan asked, hoping he didn't sound as demanding as he had earlier. That had not yielded the most…favorable results.

"Yeah…but wouldn't it look better if we had a cameraman? Like…"

"It would be shaky. Even with Matthew's…" Ivan eyed the other boy, "…skills. Do not trouble him."

Alfred looked like he was going to argue but then sighed and shrugged. "Whatever. I'll go get the sheets and stuff."

The boy dropped his backpack to the floor, heading up to his room. Ivan didn't move, watching Matthew. Alfred's cousin stared at Ivan nervously and it was all silent for just a moment.

"Um…Ivan?"

"Yes?" Ivan asked, if not a bit snappily.

"Do you…uh…do you…_like_ Alfred?"

Ivan's nostrils flared. "Why?"

"Just wondering. Because you…um…you kind of stare at him a lot. Like _that_."

There was a long moment of silence, as Ivan debated how to answer that. What, should he deny it? Or…or could Matthew…and he did _not_ want to say this… could Matthew help him? Ivan didn't want to take too many chances, but that, apparently, could not stop his mouth from moving anyway.

"So it is obvious, then?"

Matthew seemed surprised for a moment, but then he smiled. "Not really. I suppose you just learn to notice things…when nobody really notices you."

"Oh, I think you are _very_ apparent," Ivan said, raising his eyebrows a little.

"He's obsessed with that one girl, you know. The admirer?" Matthew shrugged.

"Sunflower. I know."

"He told you, eh? Yeah, he was really going on about her…"

Ivan heard some faint rummaging around upstairs. It seemed as though Alfred was going to take a sufficient amount of time. And, despite everything, Ivan liked Matthew. He was easy to talk to. Not judgmental, not opinionated, and if nobody noticed him he could probably keep a secret.

"It is funny, you know, how you all assume that Sunflower is female," Ivan said, phrasing the sentence carefully. "What information have you gotten to tell you this?"

"I don't know. That's just what Alfred told me."

"I think you should entertain the possibility that his precious Sunflower may be a boy."

It took Matthew a second but then his eyes widened. "Wait a minute. That's…it's you?"

"Perhaps," Ivan said noncommittally, but he knew that Matthew understood. It felt…almost _good_ to tell someone. It felt nice. And also a bit regretful. As though it might not have been the best idea. He'd just have to see. It wasn't like he was all that used to having to trust people.

"Don't worry, I won't tell anyone," Matthew promised, smiling. It was strange, how much the smaller boy had warmed up to him. Maybe knowing a secret about someone was good for making friends. If it worked that way Ivan would rather die alone.

There were some more thuds upstairs and Ivan quickly turned back to Matthew. "Could you…are you on good terms with your cousin?"

"Yes. I hope so."

"Could you, in that case…" Oh, this would be difficult. Difficult but necessary. "…hint? To Alfred? That…Sunflower may not be a girl," he finished slowly, making sure the sentence was as neutral as possible. Matthew blinked a moment before nodding.

"I can try. No promises as to how it'll work."

"Ah…thank you," Ivan said, and as if on cue a series of rapid thuds came blasting from the staircase. Alfred had returned.

* * *

><p>The Joneses really had too many sheets for their own good. It wasn't like they had all that many beds but hell, they could start a bedspread museum if they wanted to. Alfred was sure to grab only the white ones, getting four just to be safe. Anyway, they had so many it wasn't like his mother would miss a few around the edges.<p>

Alfred was just about to start down the stairs when he heard some rustling from his mom's bedroom. Then there was the clearing of a throat and, "Alfred? Would you come here a minute?"

Alfred hobbled over to the large bedroom at the end of the upstairs hall, nearly drowning in a mountain of bedsheets he'd unfolded in his rummaging. The door was open just a crack so he bumped it ajar with his back.

"Alfred, what are you doing?"

His mother was sitting crosslegged on the bed, stacks of disheveled magazines lying in an arc around her. And that poor little side table was turned upside down, legs sticking in the air like some turtle flipped on its back. Minus the wiggling and smell of rotting stuff. Alfred had done that once, at this pond his grandparents took him too.

"I'm getting stuff together for the project. It's due Friday and me and Ivan were gonna go up the hill today."

"The forecast is for rain," Alfred's mother said, snipping out some vaguely mushroom-shaped picture from a Vogue magazine. There was a bit of silence before she spoke again. "Honey, how often do you see Arthur?"

Alfred peered at his mother from around Mount Fitted Sheet. "Like once a day. Why?"

"This is going to sound funny, but I think I really need to meet him. Soon."

Alfred didn't know quite how to respond to this, so he decided to just nod. There was no use getting involved with whatever was going on. "'Kay. Mattie was gonna try to come in during lunch tomorrow. See everybody. If you want you could probably come."

Alfred's mother smiled. "Okay. Thank you. I'm sorry for being such a bother."

"No, s'okay. The more the merrier," Alfred said, smiling brightly. "I gotta go before Mattie passes out or something," he continued. "I left 'em alone together, and Matt's scared shitless of the big guy."

"Ha ha," Alfred's mother said sarcastically. "Language. Now go rescue your cousin."

There was a light pattering sound, and Alfred walked over to the window. His mother returned to pasting the mushroom-shaped thing onto the poor, defenseless table, as though by her dismissal Alfred would have simply disappeared. The boy pulled back the curtains, groaning loudly.

"Well shit."

"Alfred," his mother warned again. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"

He paid her no mind. "It's raining. Crap." Unceremoniously he dumped all the sheets onto the floor. "Now we can't do anything."

"Dinner should be out of the oven in just a little while. I think you can hold on." There were some more snips and Alfred could see a small piece of paper in his mother's hands, one that looked a bit like a melted dog. He turned back to the window.

"This sucks. Now we only have a couple days to do this."

"You can film it in the house," his mother offered. "There's no problem with that."

"Yeah, but then it'll look _cheap._ Like we didn't even care enough to _do anything_." Alfred sighed. "Whatever. I'll go tell Ivan." He jogged out of his mother's bedroom, stepping down onto the landing.

"Alfred!" He stopped. "Sheets!"

Oh, right. Alfred jogged back into his mother's bedroom, where she was pasting the melted dog-thing onto the table. She didn't even look up at him as he picked up the huge, cushy pile of sheets, teetering a little as he brought them back into his room. Then he started back down the stairs.

Ivan and Matthew were talking a little, but they stopped as Alfred came into view. He tried to look as bummed out as possible, slouching and sighing pointedly. "It's raining. We can't do anything."

Ivan's eyebrows rose as he leaned to the side, probably trying to see out of one of the windows. "Indeed it is. That is quite unfortunate."

"I know, right? I mean, it's not like we got all the time in the world. Stupid weather."

There was a ping from the kitchen, like a timer going off. "We must do this tomorrow, then," Ivan said seriously. "Natalya needs me on Thursday."

"Right. Okay. We gotta haul ass, and I'll edit the video." He sighed, closing his eyes. "Shit."

"Alfred, language."

Alfred whirled around to see his mother, arms crossed. "Sorry," he said, rolling his eyes. "Dinner's ready."

"I know. I'm sorry about the weather. Ivan can stay to eat, if you'd like."

Ivan looked a bit uncomfortable with the proposition. "I do not want to be troublesome," he said, engaging his slick, parent-pleasing voice. It was like he had a charm switch. Alfred wished he could do that.

"It's no trouble at all, right Alfred?" his mother asked, leaving the decision up to her son. He shrugged.

"Sure. Why not?"

"I will have to call my sister, then. Please excuse me," Ivan said, smiling that fake smile Alfred didn't like and striding over to the phone by the couch. Alfred went into the kitchen and Matthew followed him, not having said a word.

* * *

><p>As soon as the chicken was placed in front of him Alfred dug in. He hadn't realized how hungry he was, up until this glorious chicken-filled moment, however. Ivan seemed a bit more reserved, taking a tentative bite. Alfred's mother had long prided herself on baking chicken, however much she could have been better at making virtually anything else.<p>

"Good?" she asked after a moment, already expecting the answer.

"Awesome," Alfred answered, taking another bite that seemed far too large for him to chew. Matthew used a knife, cutting the chicken up into little pieces before eating them one by one. As far as Alfred was concerned that was ridiculous.

"So, what's your project about?" Matthew asked after a moment. Ivan shifted uncomfortably, obviously not given to small talk over dinner.

"Um…so there's this one Greek myth," Alfred said, taking another bite of his quickly dwindling chicken supply.

"Roman," Ivan interjected.

"…this one _Roman_ myth about Cupid and this human girl. And we had to work on it in school and do a project. Basically, the one goddess,"

"Venus."

"Right. Venus is all jealous of the human girl and tells Cupid to go make her fall in love with some big monster thing. So nobody can have her. Only he shoots himself and falls in love with her. So Ivan and I are going to be um…what was it?"

"Figuring out whether Cupid's accident counts as true love or not," Ivan said stiffly.

"Interesting," Alfred's mother commented simply. Matthew didn't speak.

If he was to be honest, Alfred didn't like the awkward talking around the table either. He supposed that it was just because they had two guests that they sat at the table instead of in the living room. He didn't say anything, though.

The rest of the meal was finished in what could have practically been considered silence. Alfred's mother told Matthew that she'd be coming with him to school the next day. Ivan didn't say anything unless asked. Alfred finished eating and had to sit there, listening to all the mundane chatter.

Finally, however, the meal ended, Ivan dismissing himself to go home. Alfred caught him shooting a look at Matthew but didn't think anything of it. Then they played video games and did homework until it was finally time to sleep.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Al?"<p>

Alfred turned over in his bed, squinting into the darkness even though he knew he wouldn't be able to see his cousin. "Yeah?" he whispered, the kind of whisper meant to carry in the dark.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah."

"Do you really like Sunflower?"

Alfred made a small noise in the back of his throat. Then he sighed. "She stood me up."

"Uh…that's what I wanted to talk to you about," Matthew whispered, pausing for a moment. "Why do you think it's a girl?"

Alfred froze in place, mouth parted slightly. "I can just kind of tell," he whispered almost inaudibly. "She just _is_…I mean…"

"Did she ever…um…tell you that?"

"No," Alfred said before realizing what that meant. "You mean…it might be…"

"It might be," Matthew said, voice breaking the barrier between whispering and speaking. "I'm just saying that…you can't know. Until you meet…him or her."

Alfred was quiet for a while, his whole foundation shaken. Up until now he'd just considered it a given that Sunflower was a girl. There was even the word _flower_ in the name, for crying out loud. But Matthew was right. He didn't know. And he'd been overlooking that fact for a long time.

Now, however, it made a bit more sense. He rolled over, his back facing his cousin on the floor. It was as though the whole world was conspiring against him over the past few days, trying to tell him that he liked guys, too. From Arthur to Francis to Matthew and even to Ivan. Maybe this is what discovering yourself felt like. He'd probably never laugh at some gay guy on TV ever again.

But he knew that he wasn't completely gay. It wasn't like he was just going, 'Hey, I know that I've liked girls my entire life, but now I'm just going to abandon it so I can kiss guys!' With his hands on his hips or something. That wasn't what was happening.

He needed another opinion.

"Hey, Mattie?" he whispered to the wall. It took a second for his cousin to answer.

"…yeah?"

"Um…are you straight?"

"Last I checked." Matthew paused for a moment. "Why?"

"'Cause…I think I…might not be," Alfred said, biting his lip. He hadn't really told anyone this. Except for Ivan, but that was just because he'd been hard-pressed for it. It felt like coming out. Which was something he never thought he'd have to do. Ever.

"You think you're gay?" Matthew asked, whispers quieter than before. As if someone was listening.

"Not gay," Alfred whispered back, "Just…bi or something. I don't know. I don't know anything anymore."

There was some rustling of sheets from the floor, and then Alfred heard his cousin's voice right by his bed. He rolled over.

"So…if, for example, a guy had a crush on you…you wouldn't be all weirded out?" Matthew asked, probably trying to make it sound like a logic question. Those were always easiest to answer.

"Probably not. I mean, it depends. Like, on the guy." God, that was weird to say.

"…do you like anyone in particular?" Matthew asked, and Alfred decided it felt weird to be lying down while talking. He sat up, propping himself up on his hands.

"Kind of. I don't know. I mean, it's really, really confusing. Everything. It sucks."

"I'm sorry," Matthew said. "I just wanted to make sure you were…thinking outside the box."

"Yeah," Alfred said noncommittally. "You're a good guy."

"I try," Matthew said. "It's almost eleven and you have school tomorrow. And you're cranky as hell if you get less than eight hours."

"Ha ha. G'night."

Alfred laid himself back down, closing his eyes. Matthew didn't say anything else, and Alfred felt himself drifting off into sleep. Then, he heard a small buzzing noise. His phone.

He reached for it, tucked between his pillow and the headboard, bracing himself for the light when he flicked it open. Carefully he opened the phone, squinting in pain as the light hit him. Ugh. Just ugh.

He allowed himself a moment to get his eyes adjusted to the light before he opened the newest message.

_I'm sorry, Alfred. I love you. I love you I love you I love you. Forever._

* * *

><p>The hallway had been full of chattering and bustling people, all entirely absorbed in their own lives. Alfred walked quickly down the now-empty hall, knowing that he was going to be at least a little late for English. Usually he was one of the first people there but today he'd been informed that as long as he read a little monologue for the camera he'd be off the hook for the seniors' movie. So he had, though just for Gilbert, and now they were both late.<p>

Alfred heard Ms. Héderváry's voice as it wafted from the open English room door. Gilbert grinned. "My favorite class," he said under his breath, and Alfred had to resist the images that popped into his mind. Images of rocks. In the wilderness. And certain people making out on top of them.

"Mine too," he answered, and it wasn't untrue. He enjoyed the class and if he'd had a better grade it might have been even better. He also got to talk to Ivan, and while he normally wouldn't have considered that to be a plus…well, what was normal anymore? He had to face it. He and Ivan were friends.

Gilbert entered first, interrupting Ms. Héderváry with a loud "Hey, babe!" The class laughed and Alfred slipped in, depositing a hall pass on her desk as he did.

"Gilbert, you're late. And I'll assume you don't have a pass, either."

"Nope," Gilbert said, sitting down and leaning back in his chair. "Go on, don't stop for me."

Ms. Héderváry rolled her eyes, clearing her throat. Alfred slid into his seat, opening his binder. Ivan glanced at him before quickly tearing a small piece from a notebook page and scrawling something onto it. Then he folded it once and handed it as discreetly as possible to Alfred.

_There will be a Halloween party at my house. I would like you to come._

Alfred looked up at Ivan, who seemed to be paying rapt attention to Ms. Héderváry. He knew that the taller boy wasn't, however. He was probably waiting (rather impatiently) for a return note. So Alfred obliged.

_When?_

He slid the note onto Ivan's desk with two fingers, trying to look inconspicuous. Being in the back of the room certainly helped with these kinds of things. He waited a moment as Ivan read the note and then scribbled something into the tiny margin that was left. The paper was passed back.

_Saturday at 7. Costumes._

Alfred crumpled the note up and smiled. "Okay," he whispered, making the OK sign with this fingers.

"Alfred? Having fun passing notes back there?"

The blond boy's head jerked up, eyes wide. Ms. Héderváry was watching him, one eyebrow cocked. Gilbert snorted, turning around in his seat.

"Anything we should know about?" he asked condescendingly, waggling his finger at Alfred.

"We were just…" Alfred searched his mind for some kind of witty comeback. "…talking about how nice you're looking today, Ms. H." He winked at Gilbert mockingly.

"Not you too," the teacher said, although Alfred could see a lick of concern pass across her face. "Anyway, how is your project coming along?" She was testing him now. Making sure he'd been paying attention. Putting him on the spot.

Alfred grinned. "Swimmingly."

* * *

><p>Lunchtime came faster than expected, and Kiku wasn't there. It was odd, as Kiku never missed a day of school. In fact, Alfred realized that his shorter friend hadn't been there in the morning either. This was unexpected, but Alfred didn't dwell too much on it. He had to meet Matthew and his mother anyway.<p>

They arrived a few minutes into the lunch period, and Alfred had just grabbed a cheeseburger and carton of milk for his adventure down the hallway.

"Al!" Matthew called, waving brightly. He was wearing a sweater vest. Alfred rolled his eyes. Mattie wasn't really very adept in social situations, and sometimes he looked like an idiot.

"Hey, you gotta sign in first!" Alfred called back, gesturing to the main office right next to the front doors. They nodded and soon were on their way.

"So, Mattie, Kiku isn't here today but I can show you a couple other people. Mom, I think that Artie and people are doing their movie, so I can probably butt in and you can say hi," Alfred explained as they walked away from the lunchroom. "Actually, you could probably go talk to the senior guys too," he continued, talking to Matthew.

"What's their movie about?" Matthew asked. Alfred shrugged.

"Some love story. With drugs. They're gay, y'know."

A gay love story with drugs, huh? Alfred smiled to himself. What a great description. That should be their logline. 'Artie, Francis and Gil proudly present: _We Filmed This in a School_, a gay love story with drugs! Now with 30% more Alfred!'

…

Yeah.

Alfred's mother was dressed more nicely than he would have expected for coming to meet one of her son's friends. It was weird, and made him a little uneasy. She was wearing earrings. She _never_ wore earrings. And that neckline was something she only brought out on special occasions.

Most of the filming had been done in the back courtyard so Alfred wondered if that's where the three senior boys would be. He held up his finger in a signal to his parent and cousin as he jogged over to the doors, pushing one open into the courtyard. Nobody was there. Well shit. Where else would they be?

"Hold on a sec!" he called, heading down the hallway some more. Maybe they'd be in the gym, or in the English room. He needed to find them before class started and his family had to leave.

"…and he and Russian Mafia guy were passing notes in class, like they were fucking sixth graders," Alfred heard Gilbert's voice enthuse from around the corner. Oh. Well. Maybe he wouldn't need to find them after all.

"You are infinitely juvenile," Arthur said as the three boys came into view. Alfred smiled, waving at them. Francis seemed to notice him, twinkling his fingers in return. Gilbert's grin expanded.

"Hey, Alfie! We were just talking about you!"

"I noticed," Alfred responded. "So, uh, you got a minute? My cousin wants to meet you guys. He's a cool kid, don't worry."

Francis raised a skeptical eyebrow but Gilbert just shrugged. "Sure, whatever." He eyed the other boys, grinning as he swelled up to his full height. "And I believe I speak for the others when I ask you, is he hot?"

Arthur groaned and punched Gilbert in the arm while Francis just sighed sharply. "Hey!" the fair boy defended himself, "I'm just trying to get you guys. See what it's like to wanna fuck guys."

This earned him another punch in the arm, and it was Arthur who spoke next. "We can only stay a minute. We have to pick up a friend from the airport."

"'Kay. It'll only take a second. And, um, my mom kinda wants to talk to just you," Alfred said, gesturing to Arthur.

"Been around, huh?" Gilbert chided.

"Shut it. I've never met his mother."

"Is that them?" Francis asked, pointing past Alfred's shoulder. He turned, nodding as his eyes found his relatives. He beckoned them over with one big arm movement.

"That is one badass sweater-vest," Gilbert said, whistling in appreciation. "Man, Alfie, you were right. He's a cool kid."

"Shut up," Alfred snapped, shooting a warning glance at Gilbert. The white-haired boy raised his hands in defeat.

"Hey," Matthew said as brightly as possible. He adjusted his shirt, cocking his head to the side. Then, slowly, his eyes widened. Alfred's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he turned back to the group of older boys. Francis was watching Matthew curiously.

"Francis?" Alfred's cousin asked after a moment, voice thick with disbelief.

"It seems we did meet again, _mon cher,_" Francis said, a light smile of fondness crossing his lips. "It has been a while."

"_O-oui,_" Matthew answered.

"_Où est-ce que tu habites, maintenant?_" Francis asked, French sounding far more at home coming from his lips than English. Matthew launched into a long explanation of whatever Francis had asked. Alfred's mother was silent, watching Arthur carefully. The senior boy noticed this, extending a hand.

"I'm Arthur," he said cordially. Alfred's mother nodded slowly.

"I know." Alfred's mother took a shaky breath. "Um...could I ask you a few questions?"

Arthur nodded and the two drifted over to the wall. Gilbert looked entirely confused. "What's that all about?"

"I dunno. It seems like Mattie and Francis are going all Frenchie on each other and my mom wants to talk to Artie."

Gilbert nodded. "Yeah, I guess that pretty much sums things up."

Alfred's eyes were trained on his mother as she and Arthur spoke. Slowly he saw the tears forming in her eyes, and the surprise coming into Arthur's. Then, they stepped forward and hugged. Gilbert snorted out a laugh but Alfred quickly shut him up.

Then Alfred's mother turned back to her son, sniffling a moment before smiling and beckoning to him. Gilbert saw this and pushed the younger boy forward, nearly tripping him. Alfred just caught his balance and stumbled to his mother and Arthur.

"Alfred..." his mother started, sniffling again. "Do you remember...do you remember this man who came to our house for Christmas one year? He was kind of short and...um..."

"Yeah..." Alfred offered. He did remember something like that, but it was hazy. He felt his heart speed up as his mind ran through all the possibilities. Was his mother getting married again? Did someone die?

"Um...well...when I was seventeen we were dating. And...we were stupid...and I got pregnant."

Alfred's eyes widened, as a whole new set of possibilities ran through his mind. Maybe...maybe his dad wasn't his real father? By the way his mother's eyes were watering it couldn't be anything good.

"His name is John...and I couldn't keep the baby. So...I...God, why is this so hard?" She turned to Arthur, eyes pleading.

"She had to put..._the baby._..up for adoption," Arthur continued. "And..._the baby_..." He glanced at Alfred's mother, "...was adopted by John's aunt and uncle." The older boy spoke as if he was telling a bedtime story, very far removed and resigned to the plot.

"So...I have a sister? Or a brother?" Alfred asked, tacking on the last part as he remembered his conversation with Matthew the night before.

"Yeah," his mother said quietly. She closed her eyes suddenly, capturing Alfred in a hug. "And I found him."

Alfred's eyes went wide as realization came over him. "Holy shit," he mananged to get out. He wasn't berated for language this time.

Arthur stepped forward, a bit of a smirk touching the corner of his lip. "Hello, little brother."

Holy shit.

* * *

><p><em>Chris used SOAP OPERA PLOT.<em>

_It was I DUNNO. DID IT WORK OR NOT?_

_Review? And if you can point out any typos I'll give you a pet hedgehog for you to love and cherish forevermore._


	15. Home for the Holidays

_Hello once again, my pretties! I updated fast again! But that's probably because I've been thinking about nothing but this story all break. Seriously. My entire life has been focused on writing this /no life ftw_

_I've been planning out where to go next and there may be three or four more chapters. I don't know for certain, and I'll just have to write them and find out. :D _

_Also, this should probably be the last really fast update you should expect. At least for now. Because school, that lovely demon, is here again. And I have far too many classes to handle at once -.-'_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>It was on the way to sixth period that the second realization hit Alfred. He stopped dead in the hallway, the Global History room only a few steps away. His expression, had anyone stopped to see it, morphed from shock, to disbelief, and finally to horror.<p>

He'd _kissed_ his brother. On the lips. Oh dear sweet Jesus.

The rest of the day was haunted by that one thought, to the point where Alfred was unable to think anything else. He'd _kissed_ his _brother_. Arthur was his _brother_. He supposed, in retrospect, that it was really the best way to smother a crush. To find out you were related. It was like that one Weird Al song. Yeah. With the…whole…you know…

Whatever.

Ivan met Alfred at his locker as the younger was taking out his backpack at the end of the day. He was looking rather pleased with himself, which prompted Alfred to ask why.

"I am excited. We are going to work on our project, are we not?"

"Yeah. I was just wondering."

"So, how was your day?" Ivan asked as they started out of the school. It wasn't raining today, which Alfred was thankful for.

"…it was weird."

Ivan cocked an eyebrow. "How so?"

So Alfred explained, in great detail, the events that had transpired earlier in the day. Ivan listened, his expression turning happier and happier as the narrative went on. Alfred finished with a big sigh.

"…and so now I feel like a retard."

"Why?"

"'Cause I…um…I kinda kissed him."

Ivan stopped in his tracks, Alfred taking a few steps forward before realizing and turning. The older boy stared at Alfred with wide eyes, mouth just a little open. His hand was gripping the shoulder strap of his backpack, hanging off of one shoulder, and as the wind picked up just a little his pale hair started dancing around. "What did you say?" he asked slowly.

"Um…well, actually, it was more like _he_ kissed _me_…but it was all just for this movie thing and…um…yeah…"

Ivan bolted forward, looming uncomfortably close to Alfred. "What happened?"

"Hey," Alfred said, planting hand on Ivan's chest and pushing back a little. "Chill. You know what happened the last time you did this."

Ivan looked like he was about to argue, but then he stopped. "Okay. Fine."

"Anyway, it's nothing big. And now that we're…um…yeah…it won't happen anymore. Happy?"

"Hardly," Ivan muttered, but he didn't press the subject anymore. Alfred felt a bit accomplished. He'd stopped the giant. The monster. He'd vanquished Ivan's violently inquisitive side. He almost felt like he should give a speech. Or something.

They reached Alfred's house fairly quickly, Ivan opening the door for the younger boy again. Alfred thought it was a bit odd, but it wasn't like he'd turn it down. The first thing he noticed when he stepped inside was that Matthew was sitting on the couch again.

And so were Arthur and Francis.

Ivan made a small growling noise in his throat as he saw the congregation in the living room but he didn't say anything about it. Alfred waved, eyes lingering on Arthur a bit awkwardly. The senior boy raised an eyebrow but continued his conversation with Francis.

Alfred quietly excused himself upstairs, returning with the sheets he'd kept in a pile on his bed in just a few seconds. Then he said a soft "bye" and opened the door. Alfred's mother didn't even notice he was there.

* * *

><p>Ivan set up the video camera on a tree branch, zooming in until the rock was in full view. "Alfred!" he called to the other boy, "Tell me if this is good!"<p>

"Hold on a sec," Alfred muttered to himself, peering from behind a tree trunk. The bedsheet was wrapped around his body like a toga, and though he'd kept his jeans on his torso was chilly. Hey, don't judge. It looked stupid if he was wearing a hoodie underneath. He just hoped Ivan wouldn't think it looked stupid this way too.

Ah, hell.

He stepped out from behind the tree, one hand pinning the cloth to his shoulder. "This look okay?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed. Ivan glanced up, and slowly a smile formed on his face.

"Magnificent. Take your hand away."

"Can't. It's the only thing holding this together."

Ivan sighed, but it was fond. "Your mother gave me safety pins. Would you like one?"

Alfred glanced down at his hand and nodded. "But I can't move this or it'll all fall apart. And…um…yeah."

Ivan abandoned the camera at once, extracting a small handful of safety pins from his pocket as he walked toward Alfred. "I'll help," he said, nodding at Alfred's hand as he replaced it with his own. One cold finger touched Alfred's bare shoulder and he grimaced.

"Your hands are fucking freezing."

"Alfred," Ivan berated playfully. "Language."

"Right. Sorry, mom."

Ivan chuckled, opening a safety pin with his teeth. "Are you wearing a shirt under that?"

"Nope."

The hand on Alfred's shoulder moved as Ivan pinched the fabric. Then he threaded the safety pin through the white cloth, holding the makeshift toga in place. He bit his lip as he worked, probably some subconscious thing. It did take him a while, though. Alfred started to get a bit impatient.

"You done?"

Ivan seemed to snap out of some trance, blinking wildly as he looked back at Alfred. "Hm? Yes. I'm done." Then he stepped back, clearing his throat. "Shall we begin?"

"Dude, you gotta wear one of these things, too. You can't just do this in a sweater."

Ivan grumbled a little, pursing his lips. "Give me a sheet," he demanded, hand outstretched. Alfred smirked, pulling one of the bedspreads off of the branch upon which he'd piled them. The taller boy took the fabric, arms rising as he unfolded it in front of himself. "How do I do this?"

"First off, you can't wear that shirt. You'll look like more of a tool than you do already."

"Why _thank you_," Ivan said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. Then he handed Alfred the sheet to hold as his fingers curled into the hem of his sweater, pulling both it and the shirt underneath up at the same time. Alfred watched the older boy as he undressed, pulling the garments over his head and hooking them on another tree branch. Ivan was well-built and sturdy, and hopelessly pale. Alfred's own skin was fairly tanned from when he was younger and from his father's side of the family. Ivan didn't exactly have a six-pack or huge pecs but he looked strong nonetheless.

"Enjoying the view?"

Alfred blinked up at Ivan in surprise. The older boy smirked, looking as though he was just seconds from bursting into laughter. "Or do I have something on my chest?"

"Shut up," Alfred grumbled, face warming just a little. He wasn't given to blushing but if there wasn't a little pink tinge on his cheeks he was blind. Well, figuratively. Because he couldn't really see his face. It just kind of felt like it, you know?

"Give me the sheet," Ivan said, not waiting until Alfred handed it over to take it. "How do you put this on?"

"Just…just like I have it," Alfred said, not sure how to explain.

"Well then," Ivan said (and Alfred caught what looked almost like a glint in his eye), "Why don't you do it?"

Alfred rolled his eyes, snatching the cloth back. Ivan straightened up, arms bending as he picked them up off his sides. The younger boy's brow furrowed as he tried to remember the convoluted way he'd made his own toga.

He had to start with the cloth in the back. He swallowed a bit thickly as he leaned in, face nearly touching Ivan's collarbone as he reached around for the other end of the fabric. The taller boy remained completely still, though he seemed a bit stiff. Alfred quickly withdrew, holding both ends of the bedsheet. "Turn left," he commanded. Ivan turned, glancing down at Alfred, who didn't meet his eyes.

It was silent as he manipulated the fabric into the same kind of toga as he himself was wearing. "Where are the safety pins?" Alfred asked.

"My pocket," Ivan answered. He didn't move, and Alfred raised an eyebrow.

"They're not gonna get themselves."

"Of course." Ivan pulled out one oversized safety pin, handing it to Alfred. The younger boy quickly pinned the cloth to itself, finishing the makeshift toga.

"So."

"I believe we can begin."

"You sound like you're gonna murder me or something," Alfred said, face contorting in mock horror.

"And maybe I am," Ivan said in a low voice. He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head down, watching Alfred from beneath his eyelashes.

"'Kay," Alfred snorted, "Just for the record, that was probably the gayest thing you've ever done."

"In front of you."

"Right. Whatever. Where'd you put the camera?"

Ivan pointed over to the tree and Alfred jogged over, sticks crunching under his feet and the toga feeling awkward all over. He peered through the lens, adjusting the angle a little bit before nodding. "It's good!" he called.

Then he strode over to the large rock, sitting down on it as Ivan readied the camera. "Oh, Alfred?" he yelled.

"Huh?"

"I brought a prop of my own," Ivan said, holding up a long stick. Alfred recognized it immediately.

"Dude! Where'd you get a bow?"

"The school will not miss it for another few days," Ivan answered slyly. "I have an arrow, too."

"You better not fucking shoot me," Alfred warned.

"I would not dream of it."

Alfred laid down on the rock, folding his hands over his chest and trying to relax. "When I said 'Action' you press record and go, okay?"

Ivan nodded, finger poised on the button. Alfred shifted a little, getting comfortable. He'd be here a while. "Ready…action!"

* * *

><p>"And so Cupid fell in love with Psyche, doomed to live in uncertainty," Ivan said loudly to the camera. Alfred nodded.<p>

"So that brings us to our question," Alfred continued, glancing at Ivan. "Was it true love, or not?"

They waited a long moment, just staring into the camera. Then Alfred relaxed, falling back onto the rock dramatically. "Done!"

"And it only took us six takes."

"Totally," Alfred sighed, closing his eyes. The rock was surprisingly comfortable now, and though it was cold the toga was fairly comfortable. He understood why lots of Greek and Roman people wore them way back when.

Ivan leaned back as well, letting out a long sigh. "We should turn off the camera," he said, but he made no motion to get up. Alfred shrugged.

"I'll just edit it out."

"Fine."

They stayed in an amicable silence for what may have been five or ten minutes, just lying in the calm of the woods. It was really quite pleasant to just _be_ for a while, unfettered by anyone talking or telling them what to do or how to do it or how long they'd have to do it. And it almost seemed like Ivan was tuned to the same channel, not saying a word.

"I got a random question. What're your folks like?" Alfred asked after a moment, voice not quite piercing or loud enough to break the calm. Ivan sighed.

"My mother is dead," Ivan said, "And we do not talk about my father."

Alfred propped himself up on one arm, looking down at Ivan. "Why?"

"He…he is not a good man," Ivan said, the explanation loose. "He is the reason we moved here."

"So…do you guys live…alone?" This was all new information for Alfred.

"No," Ivan answered, shaking his head. "My older sister is still at home. I will need to find work soon, however. The moment I graduate."

"That sucks," Alfred said, lying back down. "My dad's kind of stupid sometimes but he's not like that. I mean…"

"I understand," Ivan said. "There are things we cannot help."

"Yeah."

There was another period of silence before Alfred spoke again. "So…um…why did you…you used to act like you hated me," he held, finally saying the thing that had been weighing on the back of his mind for a while. Ivan seemed surprised.

"I thought I did."

"And then the next minute you're trying to be my friend. And acting nice and stuff."

"I…I changed my mind."

"But _why?_" Alfred asked.

Ivan sighed. "I came to some realizations."

Alfred didn't say anything for a moment. Then, for lack of anything better to add, "Oh."

Another long silence. Alfred looked over at Ivan, whose hands were clasped across his chest. The other boy was only older by a few months but it seemed as if the gap between sixteen and seventeen had aged him considerably. His nose was sharp and prominent, curving down just a little, and his brow was strong without making him look like a caveman. His pale, sandy hair almost made him glow, the only logical conclusion to his untanned skin.

For just a moment Alfred honestly wondered what it would be like to…to _be with_ a guy. Like that. It would be really easy to find out. Ivan was just right there, and Alfred felt himself twitching to get up, to do something, to make some kind of move _just to find out_. He knew, of course, that he wouldn't do it. He'd just lie there and wonder about what it would be like to touch another guy's body with _those_ kinds of intentions.

Alfred thought about the last time he'd looked in a mirror. He pictured his hair, stuck until he got it cut in a style he didn't like. He pictured his face, the one that still looked like it was fourteen, a pimple on his nose and around his hairline. He didn't have muscles or even that sexy hint of them like Ivan, and he hated that his glasses were the same style as his mother's.

So, of course he had to ask.

"Do you think I'm ugly?" he asked tentatively, worried about what Ivan's reaction might be. In reality Alfred would have preferred to be called hideous than to be made subject to a long pity rant, about how "no, of _course_ he wasn't ugly" and "don't you worry yourself."

"No."

The simplicity of the answer caught Alfred off guard. He looked over at Ivan again. "Are you sure?" he tried. Ivan simply nodded. "But…but what about my glasses?"

"They suit your face," Ivan answered.

"Acne?"

"You will grow out of it."

"Hair?"

"There is nothing wrong with it."

"But what about—"

"Alfred," Ivan said seriously, "Do you _want _me to say that you are ugly?"

Alfred paused a moment but then shook his head. "No…but…"

"Good," Ivan cut him off. "I was always told not to tell lies."

It took Alfred a moment to understand, but the moment he did a warm feeling spread through his chest. He smiled, turning back to the waning sky and closing his eyes. "Thanks."

"It is no problem," Ivan said quietly. Then, "You will be handsome when you are older."

Now, that was something Alfred had honestly never heard before. Maybe it was the way it was phrased, or the use of the word 'handsome' but he liked it, and really had nothing to say in return. So they just remained in the silence of the wilderness, until at last words came.

"You already kinda are," Alfred said, averting his eyes. "I mean, you sorta look like you're twenty or something…"

Ivan opened his mouth as if to say something else but cut himself short. "Thank you."

"Y'know, we should probably go back," Alfred said after a beat. "And the camera's gonna run out of memory soon," he explained, hoisting himself up into a sitting position. Ivan joined him and they started back for home. Alfred forgot about the sheets and had to run back and get them, but after that it was fairly smooth sailing. And so they walked through town side by side, dressed in bedsheet togas, carrying a pile of cloth and a bow and arrow.

And did they care?

Not one bit.

* * *

><p>Alfred flicked on the TV, curling up on his corner of the couch. Arthur and Francis had left for the day, bringing some semblance of normalcy back on the household. It had certainly been a fairly un-normal day.<p>

Ivan had stayed to eat again, and though it had been a bit awkward with three new people eating alongside them the Joneses (and Williams') made do. That wasn't to say, of course, that the chattering that Alfred already found boring wasn't uncomfortable. Alfred's mother was still in a bit of shock at having "found her long-lost son" and everyone knew that Ivan was only there for Alfred and Matthew didn't say a word the whole time.

Alfred was infinitely thankful when it ended.

The only thing on television at the moment was Spongebob, an episode that Alfred had seen about a million times since his birth. It didn't matter, though, as he let his mind numb for the first time all day to the bright colors and annoying sounds of the cartoon. It was about fifteen minutes into the first episode that the phone rang.

"_Can you get that?_" Alfred heard his mother's voice calling from somewhere upstairs. She was probably just too lazy to get up. Alfred called back some kind of agreement and got up, padding over to the phone by the other end of the couch.

"Hello?" he asked, cursing the fact that this phone had a cord. He sat down on the untouched portion of the couch, and it was cold.

"_Hey, buddy!"_ a deeper male voice enthused. Alfred's mouth spread into an incredulous grin.

"Dad!"

"_How are you doing, huh?"_

Alfred gave the shortened version of his day, his dad whistling appreciatively as he got to the part about Arthur and possible relations.

"_Who is that Russian kid?_"

"Ivan. Um, he's just this guy. We had to do a project together and he was over."

"_A friend?"_

"Yeah, kinda."

"_You still friends with that one…was he Chinese?"_

"Japanese, dad. His name's Kiku, and yes. We're still friends."

"_Attaboy,"_ Alfred's dad said, in way of congratulation. _"Hey, you got a sec? Your mom around?"_

That annoyed Alfred sometimes. How his dad would call his ex-wife 'your mom.' "Yeah. What's up?"

"_Here's the deal. I won't be able to make it up there for Thanksgiving, so..."_ his father paused for suspense, "…_how about I come over for Halloween, huh?_"

Alfred's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"_Yup. I got work off, and maybe we could go trick-or-treating or something, you think?"_

"Yes!" Alfred cried, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. He didn't really care. He hadn't seen his dad in who-knows-how-many weeks, and a chance to see him on Saturday would be awesome. "When?"

"_I can probably make about seven or eight. Let's make it eight. That okay? Then I can stay the whole weekend._"

Alfred made a happy noise of agreement, grinning wildly into the phone. "Awesome."

"_Get ready. Make sure we have something to do. Wouldn't want to bore you,_" his dad said teasingly, knowing that there was no way that he could ever bore Alfred. _"I'll see you then_."

They spoke for a few more minutes about other things, mundane things that Alfred didn't really remember. All he could think was that in two days his dad would be here, and that made life just that much better.

And Alfred, for some reason, really wanted to tell Ivan.

* * *

><p><em>Look! Progression!<em>

_Review? And if you can point out any typos I'll give you some ridiculous prize like I usually do._


	16. Love Bite

_Bonjour, mes jolies! I kind of lied, and here is another chapter for you wonderful people. _

_I plan for there to be two more chapters after this, and then an epilogue. So we approach the end! Things will get more exciting soon, I promise._

_Thank you to everyone who has been reviewing :3_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Matthew walked into the living room as Alfred and his father were finishing their conversation. The episode of Spongebob had ended and another one had started, yet another that Alfred had seen more times than he could count. Finally he said goodbye to his dad, turning his eyes back to the television. Matthew sat down next to him, hugging a pillow to his chest like he always did.<p>

"How was hanging out with Francis?" Alfred asked, casually flinging an arm over the back of the couch. Matthew shrugged.

"Okay. He's…ah, he's still the same as I remember," the soft-looking boy answered, smiling lightly.

"So…you guys meet up North?" Alfred asked, referring to his cousin's native Quebec. Matthew nodded.

"His family would visit in the summer. So yeah." Matthew sighed, shaking his head lightly. "He's still an idiot."

"Kind of a coincidence, huh?" Alfred mused.

Matthew didn't answer, instead opting to sigh. They watched the show for a while, until light footsteps on the stairs signaled that Alfred's mother had arrived.

"Who was that?" she asked, brushing her hair. She was dressed in her favorite pajamas, a set she had bought at a department store for thirty dollars. They were Disney-themed, cotton and childish, but for some reason she loved them.

"Dad," Alfred answered, eyes still on the screen. "He said he can come over this weekend."

"I don't know about that," his mother said. "It's kind of sudden…"

"Mom," Alfred said warningly, raising an eyebrow. He wasn't usually very assertive but when it came to see his dad he seemed to forget where he stood in the world. The reprimanding look his mother gave him quickly remedied that situation, however.

"He can come. But he's sleeping on the couch," Alfred's mother allowed. Then she went into the kitchen, her blue and white slipper-socks silent on the linoleum. Alfred and Matthew sat for a while, watching the TV blankly. Then, out of the blue, Matthew spoke.

"I've seen this one."

* * *

><p>When Ivan met Alfred at his locker the next morning he was dressed a bit differently than usual. The scarf that Alfred had found in his backpack was now wound around his neck, and he kept one hand behind his back. It was all a bit suspicious, but having vaguely remembered something about going somewhere with Natalya…Alfred didn't comment.<p>

"Hey. What's up?" Alfred greeted, depositing his backpack in his locker.

"I will not be here long, I am afraid," Ivan said, looking regretful. "I must…go see someone. With my sister."

So Alfred had been right. "Okay," he said, and he tried to tell himself that he wasn't disappointed. "Kiku'll probably be here today."

Extracting his binder, Alfred prepared to go to his first class. Ivan, however, seemed to have other ideas. He leaned over a bit, resting his hand on the lockers and effectively barring Alfred's immediate way. "Alfred," he started, looking a bit worried, "I have something to give you."

"'Kay. Shoot."

Ivan seemed to muster a bit of courage before the hand behind his back came forward, producing a large flower. Alfred's eyebrows shot up, and he stared at the ring of yellow petals in confusion. "Thanks, I guess…"

"It is a sunflower," Ivan said, handing it to the shorter boy. Alfred nodded.

"I know," he said, eyeing it carefully. "Why?"

Ivan's bright expression seemed to falter and he looked away for a second. "Do you understand?"

Alfred shrugged, a bit confused. "Yeah. Um…thank you?"

"Alfred," Ivan said again, voice pleading. "You've seen the word before. Recently."

"_Vanya_…"

Ivan stiffened as an arm curled around his, and at once his younger sister was there. Natalya rested her head against the taller boy's arm, watching Alfred with that same look of derision she gave everyone. "Having fun?"

"Um…hi," Alfred said, waving a little with two fingers. Natalya's lip rose into a grimace, finding the sunflower in his hand with her eyes.

"Present time, is it?" she asked, not even masking the sarcasm with sweetness. "I think we should leave," she continued, "Before we're late."

Ivan cleared his throat, quiet for just a moment. "Of course," he said, but his eyes never left Alfred's slight frame.

"Then shall we?" Natalya asked icily, starting to lead her brother away. Alfred watched as they left, twirling the flower around in his fingers. Then he put it in his locker, slamming the door and heading to gym. He supposed that they could go be weird if they wanted to. And anyway, ever since Ivan had decided that he and Alfred should be friends the abuse in the hallways had toned down considerably.

The flower Ivan had given him still on his mind, Alfred decided to brave the locker room for the first time all year.

He dropped his binder off just outside the door, staring up at it. Yellow letters had been stuck onto the door, the words "Boys Locker Room" proudly proclaiming the contents of the large room. Only, the word "boys" was missing the "o" and someone had scrawled a picture of male genitalia onto the wood in blue pen. The Coach would probably never get rid of it.

Alfred did have a locker inside. And within that locker there sat a change of clothes, untouched and unworn since the first day of class. Already the bustle and chatter of people inside was faintly wafting through the door, and Alfred hoped that the guys had finally given up on him. Hopefully that was the case.

With his shoulder Alfred pushed open the door, standing as tall as possible as he strode inside. As he walked over to the row of lockers at the end he was surprised. Not a single set of eyes turned his way, and it was as though Alfred Jones did not exist. He deflated, keeping his eyes down, and he supposed that it was this fact that brought him back into the public eye.

"Hey, Alfie!" a rough voice called from the end of the row. Alfred's eyes flicked up in shock. "Come to join the world of the living, huh?"

Gilbert had already finished changing and was just pulling on his shoes. Then he jogged over to Alfred, the same cocky grin plastered on his face. "How's the surprise sibling treating you?"

"Um…okay…" Alfred answered, feeling a bit awkward. He wasn't sure why. "Anything…interesting up with you?"

"Not much," Gilbert answered. "You kinda suck at the whole 'small talk' business, though." Then he paused before remedying what could have been taken as an insult. "Not in a bad way, I mean."

"Yeah, yeah," Alfred said, shaking his head. "Whatever." The awkwardness was dissipating a little, and it was better now. Having someone to talk to and _not_ feeling like he was being shunned by society were certainly pluses.

Gilbert laughed and left, and Alfred decided he should probably change. He got his clothing and made a quick beeline for the two bathroom stalls in the corner, not quite sure he wanted to undress in the middle of the row. It just…he just didn't want to. Nobody else spoke to him, though he did see someone pointing him out as he left. It felt weird to actually have changed for class.

The usual guys were playing basketball on one side of the court, and the sound of dribbling on the hard wood floor echoed through the cavernous room.

"Jonsie!"

Alfred whirled around at the booming call, eyes wide. The Coach jogged over to him, grinning. It was somehow much scarier than Gilbert's. "Look at you! Finally come around, huh?"

"I guess," Alfred said noncommittally. "I figured I didn't want to fail by too much."

"Good man," the Coach said heartily, slapping Alfred on the back. The blond boy pitched forward, stumbling a little. Alfred wondered only briefly what the extraordinarily hyper man must have been like as a child.

The sport of the day seemed to be a high school version of floor hockey. Bright blue and red-tipped sticks were dispensed among three teams, which were intended to go on and off the playing field in a cycle. Alfred's team was off first, watching as the other guys started to play an increasingly violent game.

Alfred sat down on the gym floor, his own blue hockey stick leaning on the wall next to him. Gilbert sauntered over, crouching down next to the younger boy.

"Artie won't shut up about the whole 'related' thing, y'know," Gilbert mused. "That movie's gonna be _pretty_ fucking awkward now."

"Yeah," Alfred agreed, wincing internally.

"Francis keeps going on like 'I told you so' and he won't shut up either. Ya know, shit was a lot quieter around here before you decided you were a fucking movie star," the pale boy continued, smirking. "I'm not complaining, though. It was boring as hell before."

"It was a lot more boring for me too," Alfred said, relaxing a little. A piercing whistle echoed through the gym as the Coach stopped play, calling some kind of foul or something. "Hey, uh, Gilbert?"

"That's m'name."

"Um…how long have…y'know…Arthur and Francis…?"

"Been fucking?" Gilbert finished for him. Alfred cleared his throat, not sure he would have phrased it like that. "I dunno. They've been together since time fucking _began_."

"How?"

"What do I look like, an answer bag?" Gilbert huffed. "I dunno. Artie's been all over the place. They met in Europe or someshit."

"Wow," Alfred said under his breath. "Why were they there?"

"Hell if I know."

Alfred had no opportunity for further questions, as his team was cycled into play. So he grabbed the hockey stick, immediately going to play defense. It was the easiest position. And maybe, just maybe, he didn't suck quite as much as usual.

* * *

><p>English class passed by in a blur, and without Ivan there it came and went without consequence. Alfred did feel a bit lonelier, however, and it was only with the tight feeling in his chest that he realized he really missed Ivan. It was strange to think that only a little more than a week before he'd have thought that wanting to be anywhere near the taller boy was ridiculous.<p>

Soon, though, it was time for lunch. As Alfred stepped into the crowded cafeteria his eyes found Kiku, who was sitting at their usual table. He smiled and started over to the little place by the window. The small, dark-haired boy glanced up as his friend approached.

"Where were you yesterday?" Alfred asked as he sat. Kiku seemed to take a moment to respond.

"I had to…see someone," he said in his careful, measured way. Alfred watched him carefully, knowing that Kiku was fairly adept at lying. The Japanese boy turned away, watching the far wall very determinedly. It was as Alfred's eyes caught his friend's neck that he saw it.

"What's that?" Alfred asked incredulously, gesturing to the faintly darkened spot on Kiku's neck.

Kiku's eyes widened and he immediately slapped a hand over the offending spot. "A bug-bite."

Alfred's eyes lit up as he realized what, in fact, the spot was. "A _love_ bug?" he teased.

Kiku stiffened but shook his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Alfred leaned forward excitedly. "Who is it?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," the small boy repeated.

"Dude, that's not a bug-bite. Unless you've been hanging around with leeches." Okay, so maybe that wasn't the best analogy. Kiku sighed sharply, looking irritated. Alfred suspected that was probably just to cover up embarrassment.

"Fine," Kiku snapped, giving up. "That's where I was yesterday."

Alfred grinned. "And here I thought you were at the video game place or something."

Kiku chewed on his lower lip, doing his best to keep his face blank. Then he looked down at his hands, neatly folded in his lap. "Well…that _is_ where I was."

There was a moment's pause before Alfred burst into laughter. "Making out with Lara Croft, huh?"

"No."

The answer was so serious that the laughter died in Alfred's throat. He eyed Kiku inquisitively, eyebrows furrowing. "Who, then?"

Kiku faltered, glancing nervously back over to the wall. Alfred was a bit concerned now. Kiku never let anything affect him, and now he was fiddling with the zipper on his hoodie and looking around as if some monster (of the truth) were about to attack. It was unsettling to see the boy so nervous.

"Come on," Alfred urged, because in reality he really, really, _really _wanted to know.

Suddenly, Kiku stood up, picking up his tray. "I have to go," he said jerkily, pushing in his chair and starting to leave. Alfred's face fell, and immediately he was spewing out apologies for something he hadn't even known he'd done.

"I'm sorry!" he called after his swiftly departing friend. "I'll stop!" Kiku didn't turn around, hurriedly ridding himself of his lunch tray and leaving the cafeteria. Alfred watched him go, wondering what had gotten into his friend.

And why Kiku didn't trust him enough to tell him a secret as simple as this.

* * *

><p>It seemed as though the main topic of conversation in the hallway was how much booze people were bringing to the Braginskis' Halloween party. Apparently it was going to be a huge blowout (although Alfred had the sneaking suspicion that most of the prospective guests were invited courtesy of Natalya.)<p>

Kiku seemed to have disappeared for the rest of the day following lunch, although if Alfred had seen him again the subject of the origin of the hickey on his neck would have been dropped. There was no chance to explain this, however. Kiku had vanished.

Concerning the party, Alfred didn't care about drinking. He'd always wondered what it would be like to get drunk but at the tender age of sixteen he wasn't sure he wanted to try just yet. What Alfred was more concerned with was what he'd be wearing. The idea of having a costume was much more appealing now, in that it was more imperative. He still kind of wanted to be a superhero, but the time was drawing nearer and he'd only have a day to get a costume together. And when you did a superhero, you didn't do it half-assed. It had to be awesome.

And Alfred had absolutely nothing to make a costume with. There would be no time to order one and no time to go shopping for one. This was, in the world of comic book cosplay, quite a predicament. And one that he needed a solution to, fast. He didn't want to look like some douche who came to a costume party in streetclothes. This meant he needed a plan.

Usually Alfred would ask Kiku for advice on such matters, but apparently the Japanese boy was going to make that a harder feat than usual. Not that it was usually very difficult, but anyway.

And then, out of the blue, Alfred got an idea. It was such a simple one, an inspiration that made good use of materials he already had on hand.

The toga.

And it was a beautiful idea, too. A slacker one, maybe, but beautiful nonetheless. He could say he was anyone. A beard and he could be Zeus. A sword and he'd be Caesar. Ivan would know who he was, really, but no one else would. He could tell every single person at the party a different thing. (And, in their drunken stupor, he might be able to tell the same person multiple identities as well.)

So Alfred smiled to himself as he went to class, and the last part of his day passed fairly quickly. He still wondered faintly where Kiku could be, but he figured that his friend would reappear when he wanted to talk again. He was sure that Kiku wasn't mad at him; it was just a case of the small boy being overwhelmed. This had kind of happened before, situations where Kiku's brain just overloaded and he shut down for a couple hours.

At the end of the day Kiku still hadn't shown up, and this worried Alfred. Maybe he'd gone home, but it seemed like such a silly reason for being absent all day. A friend asks a question you don't want to answer and suddenly you're MIA? Kiku was smarter than that. To Alfred the only explanations were that the shorter boy had either been kidnapped by the government (or aliens) or he'd gotten suddenly, violently ill.

Alfred supposed that was alright, though, and the moment he opened his locker at the end of the day he was bombarded with a whole new series of thoughts. Because that lone sunflower sat in the top shelf, just _waiting_. And watching.

So Alfred zipped it into his bag, careful not to disturb the petals, and started home. It felt odd going to his house without Ivan, even though they'd only been doing that for a few days. It was really funny how his attitude toward the taller boy had changed so dramatically, and even more funny how much Ivan's attitude toward Alfred had changed as well.

But Alfred had a plan and things he had to do, namely editing that video for their project. He just hoped that it didn't turn out too crappy. All that hard work…it would be embarrassing, to say the least. He could almost bet that Emma's project, whoever she was doing it with, would be much better.

And suddenly Alfred's mind was abuzz with editing ideas, things he wanted to do, things he wanted to cut, things he wanted to add. Now, he had to have a soundtrack. Because what was a good movie without a soundtrack? And it would have to be sad music, too. Maybe he could use the sunflower somehow.

Oh, and that reminded him. He needed to text Sunflower back.

* * *

><p>Click, click and drag. Split clip. Delete. Drag again. Right click. Add music. Search. Double click. Cut. Delete. Sip soda. Rub eyes. Sit back for a second. Breathe.<p>

Alfred had been at this for hours, and it seemed as though he'd never get this thing right. He'd always loved making little movies and then editing them later, but this thing was huge. Ten minutes of Ivan standing next to him, going on about how much he just screwed up. Ten minutes that ended in a long explanation of the theme and it was _so boring_. Their togas were pretty cool but _everything else was boring_.

So Alfred clicked again, moving the sad music over just a bit. That way it would go better with the video. Not that that was saying much, really. Because at this point he wasn't sure anything would go with this video.

He cut another small portion of dialogue, something unimportant and, more importantly, _boring_. Then he tried to cut again, but his finger slipped. The video began to play, a part he hadn't gotten around to snipping out yet.

"_Do you think I'm ugly?_" the Alfred in the video asked, voice faint. Alfred froze, eyes widening as he watched.

"_No_."

"_But—"_

And the video went on. Alfred didn't move, watching the screen carefully. There were things he had missed, like the way Ivan's hands rested behind his head or the way his foot was so close to Alfred's. There were things he never would have seen, like how Ivan would turn to watch him every time his eyes closed. And so he just watched, biting on his thumbnail.

"_But what about—"_

"_Alfred, do you _want_ me to say that you are ugly?"_

"_No…but…"_

"_Good. I was always told not to tell lies."_

The Alfred in the video smiled and the Alfred in real life did too. He was completely silent as the conversation continued, and steadily the weight in his chest was lifted. It was as though he was in his own little world, watching what the two had known the camera was capturing but had not cared.

So it was a huge jolt when the door to his bedroom opened and a very timid Matthew walked inside. Alfred jumped, slamming the laptop shut, and his cousin gave him a strange look.

"What are you doing?"

Alfred glanced down at the laptop quickly, taking off the headphones he'd been using. "Nothing." Nothing at all.

* * *

><p><em>:3<em>

_Review? And if you can point out any typos I'll...um...I dunno. What do you want me to do?_

_(Oh! Yeah! I completely forgot! My English class just became this story. We were analyzing Greek Mythology, and for this one project we had to create a visual representation of pervading themes in a Greek or Roman Myth. Guess which one I chose :D)_


	17. Visionary

_Hello, my pretties! I bring to you another chapter, filled with lots of stuff. Mmm. Stuff._

_I can make no promises for when the next chapter will be out, as it will be long. Very long. And dramatic. I suggest you get your dramatic voice ready._

_Anyway, I hope you enjoy! And thank you once again to all you lovely reviewers :3_

* * *

><p>Alfred was, to his great surprise, the first person up in the morning. He blinked away sleep, glancing down at the vaguely Matthew-shaped lump completely enveloped in blankets. He soon found his glasses, looking around his room as it came into focus. Then he patted the top of his head, making sure that his bedhead was sufficiently terrible. That was probably a good sign.<p>

He padded out into the hallway and to the stairs, still quite asleep as he thudded slowly down. His footsteps were silenced as he touched down on the carpeted living room floor. He pushed up his glasses as he rubbed at his eyes. Then, as he perused the living room, he froze.

Because there was someone on the couch.

Alfred shrieked. There was no way to cover it up, and the entirely unexpected sight of the figure sitting up on the sofa was enough to jerk Alfred in to full consciousness.

"Quiet down, would you?" Arthur muttered, massaging his temples. Alfred stared at him in shock.

"What are you doing here?" he asked incredulously, voice cracking slightly at its first use of the day.

"Well, I _was _sleeping," he snapped. His hair didn't look all that different from usual, and Alfred supposed that the unkempt style he usually wore was a fashion choice. "Come on, stop staring," Arthur ordered sharply as he stood.

"But why were you…did you break in?" Alfred asked, the idea so completely unexpected. Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Of course," he said sarcastically. "Because my only dream is to sleep on your sofa."

"Did Mom invite you?" Alfred questioned, scratching his head absently. Arthur mocked surprise.

"Congrats," he drawled, "You smart devil, you."

"Hey, I just woke up," Alfred defended, yawning widely for effect.

"As did I," Arthur replied, "However unwillingly."

Alfred blinked at his…his brother, right. Brother. "Right. Mornin', then."

Arthur rolled his eyes again, but he didn't snap back any retort. "Good morning."

"Imma go take a shower," Alfred said, "You need one?"

"I think I can wait," Arthur responded, still looking terribly sour. Alfred shrugged, turning to go into the bathroom by the stairs.

"You need anything you tell me, I s'pose," Alfred said, no longer sure where to place Arthur in the social circles in his head. It was as though he had tried to jump straight from the "Kind of Friends" ring to that labeled "Close Family." It was a leap, and quite disconcerting. Alfred had no idea how he should treat the other boy. It seemed as though their relationship (especially if you factored in the…um…kiss…) had swung around into "It's Complicated," a land generally uninhabited.

"I'll bear that in mind," Arthur said in return, and Alfred turned into the bathroom with a wave. His head was surprisingly empty, through everything that had happened the past few days. And then, as he stepped under the spray, he let himself relax for just a moment.

* * *

><p>"Alfred? Um, could—"<p>

"Mom? Where'd you put the ketchup?"

"What the hell are you going to put _that_ on?"

"Arthur, please, watch your language."

"The wanker's putting ketchup on his eggs!"

"It's good!"

"_Arthur_."

"Uh…Alfred?"

"How can you _eat _that?"

"Don't knock it till you try it!"

"It's disgusting!"

"Alfred? Oh, maple. Aunt May, could you—?"

"Sit down, Alfred."

"He's tryin'a take the ketchup!"

"I'm not just taking it! I'm throwing it away!"

"Boys, please!"

"Aunt May? Um…"

"GIMME THE DAMN KETCHUP!"

"Alfred Jones! Sit _down!_"

The table was silent for a moment, Alfred and Arthur both grasping opposite ends of the bottle of ketchup. The older boy huffed sharply, letting go, and Alfred grinned in his victory. There was a period of quiet before Matthew spoke, happy to be finally heard.

"Um…Aunt May?"

"Yes, honey?"

"Could you pass the—"

Alfred lunged forward, snatching the last piece of bacon from the plate in the center of the table. "Last one! Double score!"

Matthew watched with an open mouth, having been thwarted again. "—never mind."

The meal continued much quieter than before, although it quickly became apparent that Alfred and Arthur could not physically get along with one another. The senior boy continued to grumble things about the blasphemy of putting ketchup on the eggs, while Alfred made sure to draw out each bite, savoring it publically.

Soon, however, it was time for school. Alfred's mother invited Arthur again, saying he could stay as long as he wanted. Arthur turned the offer down, saying he should probably be at home at least a little. It didn't look like that was the answer he really wanted to give, though. He looked conflicted.

As Alfred was preparing to leave, his mother pulled him aside. He blinked at her curiously as she spoke.

"Alfred…about Arthur."

"Yeah? What about him?"

"Please just…treat him like he's family. It may not look like it, but he's really excited about this. Okay?"

"Okay," Alfred agreed. "I'm still kinda trying to wrap my brain around this stuff, y'know? Like, in a couple days I'm gonna have a freak out when I realize that _I have a brother_ and stuff." Alfred made the last part all dramatic, waving his hands around. And it was true. This whole event, this gaining a new family member, the discovery that his mother had given her first child up for adoption and then _found_ him again…if this had been some TV show he'd be torn to bits, disillusioned with the world as he knew it (but how _could_ he know anything anymore?), or at least a little depressed. But instead it was all kind of neutral. It held no emotion, no particular significance. Oh, look, he had a brother. Cool beans.

His mother laughed lightly. "Good. Just…try to remember, okay?"

"Okay," Alfred repeated. Then he was dismissed, sent off to school. Hopefully, he thought, both Kiku and Ivan would be there. And neither of them mad at him.

As he started down the street Alfred patted his pocket, making sure the CD with his English project on it was tucked safely inside. He was feeling pretty good today. Like he was content with his place in the world, fit to continue on without trouble. The sky was fairly clear and the morning sun was shining, and Alfred was ready to take on anything.

Well, anything that wasn't too much of a surprise, anyway.

"Alfred!"

The blond boy turned toward the voice, the one that seemed to be from across the street. Instead, he saw a car he'd never seen before, a huge Hummer that seemed to devour the suburban street. Its shiny black sides made it look like some government spy car. And someone inside was calling to him. He wasn't sure if he should be scared or not.

"I know you are not blind!" the call came again, and Alfred's eyes found the opening driver's seat window. He knew who it was now, but as the window rolled down his jaw dropped.

Ivan smirked, resting his elbow in the open window. "Close your mouth before something flies in," he teased. Alfred just blinked at him, a smile forming on his face.

"Where the hell did you…is that yours?" the younger boy asked in shock, so many question running through his mind but no time to ask them all.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you coming?" Ivan asked, feigning impatience. Alfred's eyes widened, and he dashed over before his brain even had a moment to process what he was doing. Ivan seemed to be unable to stop smiling that knowing smile.

Alfred opened the passenger side door, still in disbelief. How on earth could Ivan have gotten a car like that? Where? He supposed it didn't matter, because here it was, and Ivan was driving it, and Alfred was going to be riding in it. Which was, frankly, kind of cool.

"It is nice, is it not?" Ivan asked, smiling. Alfred nodded wildly.

"It's awesome!"

Ivan pulled forward and down the street, looking extraordinarily pleased with himself. Alfred was just marveling at the roominess of the inside of the car, the comfortable seats, the fact that the windshield was so high up it felt like they were floating. And, though not for the first time in his life, Alfred wished he could drive.

"How was your day yesterday?" Ivan asked in way of idle conversation. Alfred shrugged, hand absently feeling the seat.

"It was okay. Kind of boring, and Kiku got a little pissed at me, I think."

"So did you miss me?" Ivan joked.

"I dunno," Alfred said. "Kinda. I mean, English was hella boring."

This sparked a little smile in Ivan, one that was very unlike the cocky smirk from earlier. He glanced over at Alfred quickly, before turning his eyes back to the road. "I have a surprise for you," he said. "Open the glove compartment."

They were about to pull onto the school's street. Alfred reached forward, pulling open the compartment by his knees. At first he didn't see anything inside, but then he caught sight of the small, black containers. Glasses cases, two of them.

"This?" he asked, extracting the cases. Ivan looked over, nodding. "What's inside?"

"You'll have to see for yourself."

Alfred flipped one case open, his eyes lighting up as he saw the contents. A shiny pair of aviator sunglasses stared up at him, glinting just in the light from the windows. Alfred grinned, taking off his prescription glasses and replacing them with the sunglasses. The world darkened just a bit, and Alfred felt pretty damn awesome.

Ivan took the other pair, opening the case and putting on the sunglasses with one hand. "In a car like this we should arrive in style, should we not?"

And Alfred couldn't possibly agree more.

* * *

><p>"I'm gonna go drop this off in Ms. H's room," Alfred told Ivan, waving the CD in front of the taller boy's nose. "So I don't lose it or something."<p>

"With you that is certainly a concern," Ivan said. Alfred punched him in the arm.

"Shut up."

Ivan cocked one eyebrow but didn't say anything. Then he left, off to go wherever it was he went in the beginning of the day. Alfred had absolutely no idea what the other boy's schedule consisted of, save for his third period English class. Speaking of which…

Alfred walked over to Ms. Héderváry's room. The door was closed, and Alfred supposed that wasn't so odd. A lot of doors didn't have windows in the doors, and hers was one of the ones that didn't. Apparently the higher-ups had been talking about how that was a security issue, but thus far it had not changed.

The door wasn't completely closed, though, Alfred discovered as he approached. So he pushed it open, peeking inside. And oh, look. Ms. Héderváry. And Gilbert. And they were kissing. How unexpected.

He sighed, opening the door completely and shutting it behind him. The couple shocked away from each other, eyes wide. Ms. H seemed to be struck dumb, and Gilbert started spewing out all kinds of "this isn't what it looks like" and "what the—" but it all got lost in translation and was almost unintelligible.

Alfred held up a hand, the one holding the CD. "I'm dropping this off," he said, placing it on Ms. Héderváry's desk.

"Hey, uh, Alfie…" Gilbert was still trying to appeal to Alfred's good sense, using his persuasive voice.

"Don't worry, I already know," Alfred said, starting for the door. Gilbert lunged forward, grabbing Alfred by the sleeve.

"How?" he demanded, obviously still freaking out. Ms. Héderváry was leaning against her desk, biting her nail.

"The big rock up in the woods," Alfred answered, shrugging. "Calm down."

Gilbert grasped Alfred's shoulders tightly, staring him directly in the eyes. "You can't tell _anyone._"

"I know. I didn't so far."

The pale senior boy turned to Ms. Héderváry, almost desperately. She didn't look up, instead opting to stare quite determinedly at the floor. "What're we supposed to do now?"

The teacher didn't answer for a second. Then she sighed, standing. "Gil…I don't know if…" She shook her head. "This might have to be…" a pause "…it."

Gilbert's face fell, and Alfred realized what was going on. "Nonono," he said quickly, waving his hands in front of himself. "I won't tell anyone!"

"Yeah!" Gilbert agreed, "He won't tell anyone, right?"

Ms. Héderváry looked deeply conflicted. "I…if he found out then it's only a matter of time." She bit her lip. "Before others do too."

"Don't worry about that," Gilbert said, stepping toward the older woman.

"Roderich can't find out," she hissed. "He can," pointing to Alfred, "But if _anyone_ were to tell…I would lose my job and you could be expelled."

Gilbert's face darkened. "I know."

"He won't find out. Why would he?" Alfred asked. Ms. Héderváry pursed her lips.

"He's my ex-husband," she said. Alfred's eyes widened a little. "I was the one who divorced him. He would tell."

"Asshole," Gilbert added helpfully.

Ms. Héderváry sighed, and it looked like she was going to have a panic attack. "Does anyone else know?" she asked, starting to pace in front of her desk. Alfred nodded, a bit reluctantly.

"Ivan," he said, and Gilbert groaned.

"Of _course,"_ the senior boy said, glaring at nothing in particular. "Dammit. And I know he fucking hates me."

"I'll make sure he doesn't say anything," Alfred assured. "He probably forgot about it already."

Ms. Héderváry sighed again, a strained sound. "Okay." She swallowed. "Gilbert, you should probably go to class. You too, Alfred."

"But—" Gilbert tried to protest.

"Please," Ms. Héderváry ordered. "I just need a second."

Gilbert nodded. He grabbed the teacher's hand, and they kissed quickly. "Love you, Liz," he murmured.

"Love you too," she replied, equally quiet. And Alfred knew he could never break them up. Not that he wanted to in the first place, but…damn, this was like some Romeo and Juliet thing. And Alfred liked that kind of story.

So he left, knowing he would already be late. But, he thought, it was worth it. English class was gonna be pretty awkward, though.

* * *

><p>"Are you ready?" Ivan asked Alfred, smiling as they walked toward the English room. Alfred nodded in answer. He hadn't told Ivan about the events that had transpired that morning, and he hoped that Gilbert ad Ms. Héderváry were acting normal again.<p>

"We should go first," Ivan asserted as they turned into the classroom. Alfred shrugged, catching Gilbert's eye as they passed. The pale boy nodded at him in acknowledgment, and possibly warning.

"Maybe," Alfred said. "We'll have to see."

Ms. Héderváry stood up as the students began filing into the room. Instead of going her usual route to the front of the class, however, she took a detour. As she strode by Alfred's desk she left a discreet note, tucked quickly into his binder. Then she put on a wide smile, starting the class as though nothing had happened.

Alfred took the note, unfolding the lined paper slowly on his desk. Ivan hadn't noticed, and was currently jockeying for their project to be the first one shown. The younger boy bit his lip, heart speeding up a little.

_Alfred._

_There is nothing I can do to prevent you from telling anyone. I can only ask you not to, and to pretend as though nothing has happened._

That's what he had been planning to do, anyway. He looked up to see Ms. Héderváry looking at him. He smiled brightly and she looked away, asking if anyone was ready to present their projects. Ivan's hand shot up before half the class had understood the question posed.

"Okay," Ms. H allowed, laughing a little. She seemed a bit better now. "Since you seem so eager. Alfred and Ivan will go first."

Alfred told Ivan to stay seated; everything they needed to show was already in the video. Then the younger boy walked to the front of the class, retrieving the CD. The computer was linked to a projector, and soon they had the movie running.

"It's really long," Alfred told the class in way of a disclaimer. Then he sat down and relaxed, watching the movie as it began.

He'd only seen this about four million times, but he paid attention just the same. At the beginning flashed the words "Cupid and Psyche: The Nature of True Love." It was kinda girly but he'd spent a good amount of time trying to decide how to word the introduction in the shortest way possible while still explaining the most. Alfred felt he knew now why directors created commentary cuts of movies. He had so much he wanted to explain.

Then the scene faded in, giggles erupting in the class as Alfred was revealed, lying on the rock and wearing a toga. Alfred realized belatedly that it still was, in fact, the rock on top of which he'd caught Gilbert and Ms. Héderváry getting busy. He hoped they hadn't done anything…too bad. Lest he never live it down.

Ivan crept up and the voice-overs Alfred had created the night before kicked in, explaining the backstory in the conveniently lengthy period of time that it took Ivan to make it all the way to the rock.

The boy in question leaned over, nodding appreciatively. "Nice touch," he whispered. Alfred smiled, his eyes never leaving the screen as his voice filled the room and the giggles died out.

Alfred had to admit that the coolest part of the whole video was when Ivan pulled the bow back. It looked like he'd done it before, quite a few times. However he'd managed it, it was pretty awesome how intense he got and how the muscles in his arms really showed. It was also kind of scary after the fact, how close the tip of the arrow was to Alfred's head. Ivan had assured him that if a finger should slip the arrow would have hit nothing but rock, but it was nerve-wracking to watch anyway.

And at once Ivan retracted the bow, loosening the string and backing away. The arrow was pointed down, the bow barely drawn. Alfred thought vaguely that he should have gotten a wig for himself, but it was too little too late. As Alfred's voice explained what was going on in a narrator-like fashion, Ivan continued back. And then it happened, as it had a million times. Ivan's finger slipped and the arrow shot down into his foot.

The screen went black for a moment as the sad, dramatic music started and Alfred's voice spoke as deeply and movie-trailer-like as possible.

"_He realized what he'd done,"_ the Alfred-announcer said. _"But it was too late."_

The scene came up again, Ivan sitting down on the rock. Alfred had never really realized how good of an actor Ivan was. He agonized over his mistake, having fallen in love with Psyche by his own arrow. He'd failed Venus. He was stuck now.

Alfred glanced over at Ivan, who was completely absorbed in the video. The older boy hadn't yet seen the final version of the project, and Alfred found it a great source of entertainment watching him. The Alfred-Psyche woke up, watching Cupid in surprise. Then the scene faded out again, transitioning into the last part, where Ivan and Alfred discussed their theme. Was the accident true love or not?

After a couple minutes the video fade to black for the final time. Ms. Héderváry started clapping lightly and the rest of the class followed. Alfred sat back, relaxing.

"That was great," Ms. Héderváry said, but her smile now looked a bit forced. Alfred suspected that it had something to do with the location of filming. Either way, it was over in just a second and the class continued, with all the usual people showing their projects (though none quite as good as his, Alfred thought) and all the usual people who hadn't gotten theirs done.

Ivan still seemed a bit in awe, and he didn't pay a lick of attention to any other projects. About another half an hour and class was winding to a close.

"That was very well done," Ivan said as the bell rang and people began shuffling out of their seats. Judging by his face earlier it was the understatement of the year.

"I had good stuff to work with," Alfred responded, and Ivan smiled as they stood to leave.

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>Kiku wasn't at lunch.<p>

It was becoming a bit worrisome to Alfred. Kiku never kept a grudge this long and missing more than a single day of school here and there was almost too much. This would be the second day this week, and if Alfred knew anything about his friend that was unacceptable.

Not content with eating alone and unsure of where Ivan spent his lunch period Alfred finished quickly, hoping no one would notice if he started wandering the halls. It gave him something to do, at least. So he left the lunch room, hands in his pockets, and he started down the hallway leading to the lockers and classrooms.

With everyone either in a class or at lunch the halls were quiet. Alfred sighed, telling himself that Kiku was probably sick. But, then again, if he was he probably would have called. Or at least gotten a message to Alfred. So the two options were that either something very bad had happened or Kiku was avoiding him. Alfred should have called.

And then, he saw it. The hoodie, the skinny jeans, the short black hair. And, most of all, the eyes so dark brown they were almost black, which stared at him from the end of the hallway. For a moment Kiku looked as though he was about to flee, but then his better judgment must have kicked in and he stayed put as Alfred jogged over to him.

"Where've you been?" Alfred asked as he reached his smaller friend.

Kiku glanced to the side before answering. "I was here."

"Oh," Alfred said. "So…"

Kiku nodded, knowing where this was going to lead. Then he sighed sharply, straightening himself up as if to take the blame. "I wanted to think on my own for a while."

"So you were avoiding me," Alfred translated, raising an eyebrow. Kiku looked down.

"Perhaps," he said noncommittally.

"Well, at least nothing bad happened," Alfred asserted, smiling. Kiku seemed a bit surprised.

"You aren't angry?"

Alfred shrugged. "Nah. I mean, I was probably gonna send out a SWAT team to find you if you didn't come back soon. 'Case terrorists kidnapped you or something." He laughed a little, grinning widely at Kiku to show him that it was okay.

Kiku cracked a small smile. "That would not have been necessary, you know. I could have taken them."

Alfred snorted. "Right. You and your ninja army."

"Do you doubt the force?"

"Can't doubt something that isn't there," Alfred shot back. This was good. This was nice and normal. Good old regular Kiku. He just had to clear up one more thing and then the world would be fine again. "And I'm not gonna ask about…um…yeah. You know."

Kiku's light expression darkened a bit. "That's what I had to think about." He stopped, chewing on his bottom lip. "I…feel you should know."

Alfred's eyes widened, and he wished his face wouldn't look so hopeful. "Really?"

Kiku nodded, slowly. "You know…this person." He sounded like he was trying to remain as vague as possible but Alfred didn't care. He just nodded encouragingly, flashing a helpful smile. Communicating in smiles was one of his specialties.

Kiku brought his hand up, biting absently on his thumbnail. "Remember…when I told you I was at the video game…" he trailed off, "…place?"

Alfred nodded and Kiku continued. "Well…you know who works there, don't you?"

As the realization came to Alfred his mouth dropped open. "_Heracles?"_ he asked in shock. Kiku shushed him frantically.

"Not so loud! Yes!" he whispered. "There. I told you."

Alfred still wasn't sure he'd understood correctly. "But he's, like, twenty-five!"

"Shhh!"

"Sorry," Alfred whispered, glancing around. "He's, like, twenty-five!"

"Twenty-four," Kiku corrected sheepishly. This did absolutely nothing to quell Alfred's incredulity.

"You…but…that's illegal!"

Kiku looked away, hugging himself. "No…"

"But…" Alfred didn't know what he had to say to this. "Um…okay…" he said to himself, trying to wrap his head around this new development. When situations like this arose it was always good to clear up the basics first. "So, you're gay," he started, looking to Kiku for confirmation.

The small boy shrugged, nodding almost unnoticeably.

"And…you guys haven't…" Alfred didn't know how to word the question. He had to soon, though, as lunch would be ending shortly. "…you know…_done anything_. Right?"

Kiku's eyes widened and he shook his head violently. "Of course not! Alfred, I'm not stupid."

Alfred held his hands up in defense. "I was just asking."

Kiku swallowed, nodding. "I'm sorry. But...that won't…don't worry about that."

"I'm your friend," Alfred reminded him, "And if he ever does anything you don't want just tell me and I'll kick his ass." Then he smiled, trying to make things okay again.

"Of course," Kiku said, shaking his head fondly. "He used to play soccer, you know."

"So?"

"His arm is thicker than your head."

"And your entire body. So?"

"You're impossible," Kiku said, rolling his eyes. Alfred grinned stupidly, congratulating himself for saving the conversation. He didn't want to spend the whole weekend wondering if Kiku was deathly ill. Or worse, hated him.

The bell rang, and Alfred and Kiku went their separate ways. Alfred couldn't help the smile plastered on his face as he went to his locker. This was turning out to be a pretty awesome day all over. From the ride into school to clearing up the situation with Ms. Hédervary and Gilbert to fixing things with Kiku life was pretty damn good.

* * *

><p>Kiku said he had to stay after school so he wouldn't be able to walk with Alfred. Ivan, however, decided that was the perfect time to offer Alfred another ride back. It was only a couple blocks but the blond boy didn't really want to walk alone so he accepted the offer immediately. And, of course, it meant he'd get to ride in the awesome car again, and feel like some spy. Or the President or something.<p>

As they started out of the school parking lot Alfred decided it would be a good idea to bring up the project from English, since they hadn't had much time to talk about it before. Ivan accepted the subject wholeheartedly.

"Good job in the video," Alfred said, taking the sunglasses out of his backpack and putting them on. He just felt so cool when he wore them…and there really was no reason not to.

"You as well."

"No, I mean, you were awesome. You should do acting stuff, you know? Join the Drama Club or something."

Ivan chuckled under his breath. "Thank you."

"Was it hard?" Alfred asked, honestly curious. All he'd really had to do was lie there on a rock. Not much strenuous acting involved.

"Not at all," Ivan said. "Because I was not acting."

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean?"

Ivan sighed slowly, as though releasing some inner tension. "It was easy because I was not acting."

"So…you…shot yourself in the foot with an arrow and then fell in love with a dude lying on a rock?"

Ivan groaned, a hand coming up to massage the bridge of his nose. "You are missing the point. Again."

"Then _explain_."

"I mean…in a metaphorical sense."

Alfred mulled this over for a second. Then he finally came to the conclusion. "So…you like someone?" he asked slowly, worried he'd be wrong and made fun of.

A smile spread across Ivan's lips. "Quite."

Alfred grinned at him. "Cool." But for some reason he didn't like the idea that Ivan could have his eye on someone. He couldn't explain why. But it just…he should have been happier than he was. He supposed it was just weird to think of Ivan in a relationship with anyone. But the one thing he did know was that he wouldn't press this subject. That had earned him some awkward moments with Kiku.

Ivan seemed to be waiting for something but instead of speaking they just rode in silence the rest of the way. Then Ivan slowed to a stop just in front of Alfred's house, bidding him a rather unmemorable goodbye. Alfred was a bit confused as he got out. Had he done something wrong?

There was no way to ask, as the car pulled away. Alfred waved but had no way to tell if there was any response. Then he started up the path to his house, a bit confused. Maybe Ivan just wasn't having as good a day as he was. Oh well.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Mom?"<p>

Alfred and his mother were sitting on the couch with Matthew curled up around a pillow in the middle. The movie they'd been watching had just ended, and as the credits had begun to roll Alfred had remembered something important.

"Yeah?"

"Um, can I go out tomorrow night?"

His mother cocked an eyebrow. "Where?"

"Ivan's house. There's gonna be this Halloween party thing."

"Who's going to be there?"

Alfred shrugged. "I dunno. People." He searched for the answer that would make her let him go. "Not a lot. Just some friends and stuff."

Alfred's mother looked skeptical. "Will there be any drinking?"

"Probably not," Alfred lied. "And even if there was I wouldn't."

"Could I come?" Matthew asked. Alfred shrugged.

"I'd have to talk to Ivan. He's the one in charge."

There was a moment of quiet where Alfred's mother sat thinking. "Fine," she said after a moment. "But there are conditions."

"'Kay."

"You need to be home before nine. I can only hold your father off for so long."

Oh, right. Dad. He'd be coming over, and maybe Ivan could meet him. That would be cool.

"I'll be back by then," Alfred assured.

"_And_, you have to have your phone with you. And answer it if I call you."

"'Course."

"_And_," his mother continued on, "I'll be asking around and if I hear _anything_ about you there will be hell to pay."

Alfred nodded dutifully. "Got it. You can count on me." Then he put his hands on his hips, striking a heroic pose from his end on the couch. Then his phone buzzed, moving a little across the coffee table as it vibrated. He reached forward, picking it up and flipping it open.

_I'll meet you at the party._ was the message. Alfred knew before he even looked at the name who it was. He grinned as Matthew started to change the channel.

_Ill b wearing a toga_, he responded.

Score one, Alfred.

* * *

><p><em>I actually had to look up the age of consent and statutory rape laws for this chapter XD Fun stuff, there.<em>

_Here is Ivan's car as I imagine it. Because he's totally the type to have this (without spaces):_

_h tt p: / www. canim .net /araba/images/Hummer_H3_84_. j pg_

_Review? And if you can point out any typos I shall sing you a song._


	18. Beards and Vodka and Kissing and Stuff

_It's here, my pretties. The moment you've all been waiting for. The big finale. The close. The moment of truth._

_The end of this story. _

_Well, kind of. I mean, there will be an epilogue. It'll be pretty. And nice. And stuff. _

_So I won't ramble endlessly to you all. I'm just so glad you like this story so much, you little reviewers, you *makes cute noises*_

_Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Alfred spent all morning in anticipation for the party. He had laid out the bedsheets, choosing the best one for the costume. The sheet he'd worn for the video was still sitting in his clothes hamper, dirt from the rock coating the back. Some other sheets were too yellow, too pink, too blue. There was only one he felt would work, but it was fitted and had those weird curving edges. He supposed he could make it work, somehow. It might even give some cool wrinkles.<p>

He also decided to make a list of people he could possibly be, asking Matthew to make some contributions to the all-powerful toga list. Zeus and Hercules were obvious, as were Caesar and Aristotle, but after that the pickings were surprisingly slim. They pondered for about half an hour before heading to the internet, searching "people who wear togas." Frat boy was quickly added to the list.

Alfred also had to call Ivan to ask if Matthew would be allowed to come to the party. It was, however, not the older boy who picked up the phone.

"_Hello?"_ a light female voice asked impatiently. Alfred had not been expecting this.

"Um…this is Alfred. Can I talk to Ivan?'

"_You. I don't know, can you?"_

Immediately Natalya's voice grew sour, and Alfred winced internally. He didn't give up, though. "_May_ I?" he tried.

"_Right. I'm supposed to be nice to you. Vanya really seems to like you,"_ she drawled bitterly. _"I can't see why_."

"Uh…I'm sorry?" Alfred said, trying to get on the terrifying young woman's nerves as little as possible. It was easier said than done.

"_Shut up,"_ she snapped. Then he heard some rustling and a faint, _"Vanya! Phone!"_ A pause, and then, _"Your boy-toy!_"

Alfred was glad he hadn't been drinking anything at the time, because if he had it would either have been coating the wall or filling his lungs. As it was he coughed a little, and then Ivan picked up the phone.

"_Hello,"_ he said, and there was some more shifting around.

"Hey, it's Alfred."

"_I know."_

Alfred didn't know what to say to that. "So…um…about the party."

"_You are coming."_

"Yeah, of course. It's just…Mattie was wondering if he could come, too."

Ivan was silent for a moment. Then, _"If he so wishes."_

"So it's okay?"

"_The more the merrier,"_ Ivan replied, though he didn't seem so very enthusiastic.

"Awesome!" Alfred said, if only to make sure Ivan knew he _did _want his cousin to come. It seemed as though the older boy was more likely to agree if Alfred himself were excited about it.

"_What costume are you wearing?"_ Ivan asked. Alfred smiled slyly.

"You'll just have to find out," he said, and Ivan groaned.

"_I do not enjoy waiting,"_ Ivan answered. _"But I suppose I shall have to survive."_

"'Spose you will," Alfred said. "I gotta go now. Gotta tell Mattie."

So Ivan bid Alfred goodbye and they hung up. It was just as the receiver hit the dock that Alfred remembered the second question he was going to ask Ivan. Sunflower said she was going to be at the party, and Alfred wanted to know who was invited. Oh well. It looked like he'd have something to wait for as well.

Ivan had been acting strangely lately, though. Alfred thought it might have something to do with the person Ivan said he liked. It seemed as though everyone around Alfred was pairing up, and he didn't know that he would enjoy being the third wheel every time they hung out. Then again, he didn't want to start dating someone just so he wouldn't be alone. That would be needy.

So for now Alfred was stuck. There was no reason to be brooding, however, so he decided to busy himself finishing his costume and getting one ready for Matthew.

"Hey, Mattie!" he called. "You can come!"

"I'm right here," his cousin's soft voice said from right behind him. Alfred turned in surprise, but that was quickly overshadowed by a more pressing concern.

"You're going, and now you kinda need a costume," Alfred said, crossing his arms. "It's almost three. Party's in four hours. We need to get cracking."

Matthew looked a bit concerned. "What do you plan to do, exactly?" he asked nervously.

Alfred grinned. "I think it's time we play a little Barbie."

* * *

><p>"Just…can you just…Mattie, suck in. Nope, more. Okay, now hold it…um…yeah, I think we're going to plan D."<p>

Matthew let out a deep breath, relaxing and letting his arms fall to his sides. Alfred stepped back, stroking an imaginary beard as he tried to figure out where to go next with his cousin's Halloween costume.

"Can't I just have a toga too?" Matthew asked. He'd been spending the past hour or so standing on a chair as Alfred tried different sweaters and pants and shoes and whatever else he could find on him. Half the time the Canadian boy had no idea where Alfred was going.

"No," Alfred berated. "That would look stupid if we both came in the same thing." He paused a moment. "Think of a famous person."

"Um…" Matthew said the first thing that came to mind. "Brad Pitt."

"Be realistic."

"Okay," Matt sighed. "How about…Justin Bieber?"

Alfred hissed, glaring at his cousin. "No!"

"He's not that bad," Matthew defended, but he didn't press the subject. "How about you let me get a costume myself?"

Alfred looked like Matthew had just kicked him. "But…"

"Please, Al. I think I can find something," Matthew continued. "Just…go outside or something. I'll be done in fifteen minutes."

Alfred narrowed his eyes. "Fine. One condition, though." He eyed his cousin warily. "No toga."

"No toga," Matthew agreed. "I promise."

So Alfred left the house as Matthew went upstairs. He paced just outside the door for a while, whistling to himself. After what seemed like an eternity he checked the time. It had been almost a minute.

Alfred sat down on the front step, just looking down the street. He wondered vaguely when he'd finally work up the dedication to get his driver's permit. It would certainly be a useful skill, driving. No need to walk or rely on Ivan for rides. Not that it had become a routine or anything. It had only happened once.

He checked the time again. Five minutes. Alfred had always been terrible at waiting, whether it was in a line or for someone. So, for lack of any other entertainment, he pulled out his phone and thumbed through his contacts. N…P…R…S. Sunflower.

Carefully he typed in a message, making sure that this time he used proper grammar and spelling.

_How will I know if it's you at the party? _he asked. He didn't know why it was just now that he wanted to make a good impression. It wasn't like that's what he'd been doing so far.

It had been almost eight minutes now. More than halfway done. He still really hated waiting. Maybe Matthew would get done early and Alfred would not be doomed to sit on the front step for another seven minutes. Alfred might explode and die, or maybe he'd just burst into the house and catch Matthew half-dressed. He could say it again. He was really, _really_ impatient.

Alfred started humming something nonsensical. Slowly he got louder and louder until he was humming as forcefully as possible. Then he got quiet again, as he realized people could hear him and got a bit self-conscious. Then he tried singing, some song he'd heard on the radio. He only knew the words to the chorus so he sang that over and over, under his breath.

Hidden by the large hedges he started dancing to his own song. And he was really jamming, too. He was so lost in his own little dancing world that he didn't hear the bicycle going by. But as the wheels rolled across the pavement they crackled, and Alfred was jerked back into a fairly embarrassing reality. He ceased dancing immediately.

Then, finally, he heard some very faint steps on the stairs. He shot up as his cousin's voice called through the door to him. _"You can come in now!" _His phone dropped from his hand.

Almost instantly he was in the house, slamming the door shut behind him. Matthew was nowhere to be found.

"Mattie?" he called.

"It's kind of dorky," he heard Matthew say from the stairs. "You can't laugh."

"I've been _waiting_ for-frickin'-_ever_," Alfred complained, "I won't laugh."

"You had to wait ten minutes, Matthew countered. "Okay. You ready?"

"Yep," Alfred responded. He really had no idea where his cousin had planned to go with this. He didn't know what to expect.

Then an arm shot out from the stairs, holding a stuffed animal. It was that teddy bear Matthew always had with him. It was a polar bear, and it had some weird name that started with M or K or something.

There was then a creak on the stairs, and Matthew stepped down onto the carpeted living room floor. Alfred's eyes widened and a small smile formed on his face.

His cousin was wearing a big white parka and some fuzzy pajama bottoms of the same color. Then, on his head, he wore a headband with cotton balls stuck to it. He'd even had enough time to put some lipstick and eyeliner on to make a bear nose and mouth. In his arms he clutched his little stuffed polar bear.

And it was fucking adorable.

Alfred was barely in control of his facial muscles as he was pulled into his "holy-shit-that's-cute" face. Matthew averted his eyes.

"It's girly as hell, I know," he mumbled. "I can change."

"Dude," Alfred said. "_Dude_. You gotta wear that. If you don't I'll fucking _die_."

Matthew cocked an eyebrow. "Why? So you can point me out as your 'special' cousin?"

"No, because if you don't I'll _die_."

The Canadian boy rolled his eyes but conceded. "Fine. I kind of wanted to wear it anyway."

Alfred grinned. "'Course you did."

* * *

><p>It was almost seven and Alfred was pumped. The party had been at the forefront of his mind for the whole day and now that it was nearly here he couldn't wait. It seemed as though Matthew's outfit got cuter every time he looked at it.<p>

With just a few minutes before party time, however, Alfred donned his pimped-out toga and got ready to leave. His mother told him to be safe and not do anything illegal, to which he agreed. Matthew was instructed to ensure this, just in case. He also agreed.

Then they got into his mother's car, not really wanting to brave darkened streets in a toga and bear costume. If they got mugged or something it would be double the embarrassing in weird outfits. Not that they were particularly _planning_ to get mugged, especially in deep suburbia, but by wearing a bedsheet Alfred felt his risk level increased.

It was a fairly short drive, only a couple of minutes, and then they pulled up in front of Ivan's house. It was easy to tell that this was where the party was being held, with balloons tied up in front and jack-o'-lanterns lining the steps. There was the soft sound of dance music wafting from the closed windows and doors, and occasionally some kind of yell.

"Be safe," Alfred's mother said one more time before leaning forward to kiss her son on the forehead. He scrunched one eye closed to avoid getting her hair in it, and then he and Matthew said goodbye.

Alfred had never really been to a party like this before. Previously they were just stories that other people told, about how "fucking stoned" they got and what "shit went down." Alfred didn't plan to be a part of this, and neither did his cousin. And so, heart a little fluttery with anxiety, Alfred strode up to the house, ringing the doorbell. It was about ten minutes after seven.

There was some more talking inside and then the door opened to reveal Natalya. She raised an eyebrow, eyes skimming over the costumes of the two boys standing at the door. All Alfred could thing was that she herself was stunning. She was wearing a little black dress and strappy heels, and she had accented her already fairly pale skin with lots of dark makeup under her eyes. It looked more like a runway model than a Halloween costume, really.

"Thought you'd show up," she said, rolling her eyes. Then she turned back into the house. "Vanya! It's your fuck-buddy, and he brought a clone!"

Matthew snickered and Alfred slapped him quickly on the arm in warning. A moment later Ivan was at the door, looking a bit too happy for his own good. "Hello," he said coolly, but his expression gave him away. "Come in." He was wearing a weird suit, a blue one with red decorations and lots of metals and things. There was a belt tied around his waist and everything was so clean-pressed. There were even golden epaulettes and a faux beard. Alfred, honestly, had no idea who he was but though he'd look stupid if he asked.

The moment Alfred stepped into the house he was a bit surprised. It was not at all how he'd imagined. The lights were on, for one, and instead of being all weird and crazy like he'd expected it was all fairly toned-down. There was food on a higher table in the back of the living room, and an eerily familiar plate of cookies sat on the coffee table amid plastic cups and napkins. It was surprising how the more people Ivan fit in his house the larger it looked. There may have been thirty people in all, though very few people Alfred knew.

"My sister invited almost everyone," Ivan explained as though he knew what Alfred was thinking. "I like your costume, by the way. But it almost seems…familiar."

Alfred grinned, but he still felt a bit awkward. "Yeah. It's new."

And it didn't look a thing like what anyone else was wearing. There were girls in those skimpy little "sexy Halloween" costumes of nurses and police officers, and a good third of the guys weren't wearing costumes at all. Alfred could only imagine how Matthew felt in his makeshift polar bear costume.

Ivan went off to go do something, and Alfred was left alone. Matthew had gone to do…something. Peering around the room the blond boy found his cousin timidly accepting some kind of drink from an upperclassman. This was not a good start.

He strode over to Matthew, eyeing the cup with interest. "What's that?"

"I don't know," Matthew said quietly. "He just gave it to me and said it was water."

Alfred held out his hand expectantly and Matthew handed over the cup. Then Alfred took a sniff, the strong scent hitting his nose and making it wrinkle. "Or it could be vodka," he said nonchalantly, and Matthew looked horrified.

"Sorry," he said in that weird way of his. Alfred always thought it was funny how his cousin could sound perfectly normal one minute and then the moment a word like "sorry" or "Toronto" came about his Canadian-ness was revealed. Alfred did not have time to mull over this, however, as he had more important lectures to give.

"So just _don't_ take random drinks from seniors, okay?" he said firmly. He'd never imagined that he'd be the one telling this to the far more responsible boy. "And _don't_ drink anything unless you got it yourself." He thought for a moment before adding, "And you can't pour any vodka."

"I wasn't going to drink it," Matthew said sheepishly. "I was just gonna put it down somewhere."

"And get some other chump drunk?"

"Mmmn," Matthew mumbled, shrugging. "You're not my mom."

"Yeah, well, she's in Canada, and until you go back there I guess I kinda have to be."

Matthew looked like he was going to say something, probably about how there were _so many things_ wrong with that statement, but he stopped himself. "I'm going to go over there," he muttered, pointing in the general direction of the kitchen. Alfred rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. We have to go at nine."

Matthew nodded but he didn't turn around, and though he tried to put on a confident swagger the moment he was outside of five feet of Alfred his timid shuffle had returned. He clutched the bear closer and disappeared into the kitchen. The song that came from some indeterminate place changed, to one with a lot of bass and stuff. Alfred always liked rock better.

He stood there for a while, just playing spectator to all those other people around him. One guy he'd only seen before in the halls was sitting broadly on the couch, a beer in his hand and a girl snuggled up to him. He was telling some animated story to a bunch of other guys lurking over him with drinks of their own. In another corner there was a group of girls chatting away in their cool, "I'm-too-pretty-to-be-here" voices. So _these_ were Natalya's friends.

And then there was the lady herself, hair long and impossibly straight and smooth. Her skin was flawless; really, she was beautiful. If only, Alfred thought to himself. And then, a strange thought sidled up to that one. A thought that…you know? If given the chance, he probably wouldn't go out with Natalya. Well, he _would_, if just to avoid her wrath. But he wouldn't…ah, he didn't know what he was thinking. It was not a good time to be pondering about these things.

And suddenly Ivan was there.

"You have seen this all before," the tall boy said and Alfred nodded in surprise and then confirmation. "I could show you around the rest of my house, if you would like."

Alfred shrugged. "Sure." At least it gave him something to do besides stand here awkwardly. He wasn't good at the whole party thing. And he blamed lack of experience.

"You have been in the living room and the kitchen, is that correct?" Ivan asked. Alfred honestly couldn't get over that beard. It was just…weird.

"Yeah," he affirmed, looking around at people all around them. Ivan sensed his nervousness.

"Let's get away from all these people," he said, smiling. Alfred agreed and they left the living room and all its inhabitants. Natalya seemed to be much less scarier when she was around other people. As long as they didn't get on her nerves, Alfred figured.

* * *

><p>It was quickly discovered that Ivan's bedroom was the quietest place in the house, although it was still possible to hear the bass from the music playing downstairs. Ivan had seemed to take great pleasure in showing off his home to Alfred. And he was pretty good at it, too. No need to give a tour of the bathroom or rooms that were unimportant. So the younger boy just trailed behind the older, still trying to figure out who the hell Ivan was dressed as.<p>

So that's what brought them into Ivan's bedroom, sitting on the bed. Alfred felt kind of bad for not being good at the whole going-to-parties thing but Ivan didn't say anything. Then again, if something was wrong Ivan probably wouldn't say anything about it anyway. Oh well.

They sat for a moment, happy for the quiet. Ivan took off the weird fake beard, tossing it to the side like he didn't care about it. Then Alfred's eyebrows furrowed and he turned to the taller boy.

"Shouldn't you…like…be talking to people and stuff?" He didn't want to take the host away from the party if he needed to be there.

"They are all Natalya's friends," Ivan said, shrugging. "You were the only person _I_ invited."

Alfred wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, so he didn't. Instead, he changed the subject. "So, Natalya has a lot of friends, I guess."

"I would not call them all _friends_," Ivan said noncommittally. "Many of them just want to have sex with her."

The comment was blunt and so off-handed that Alfred was taken off guard. "Um…I'm sure some of them are her friends," he replied. Ivan looked highly skeptical.

"They are all desperate for her, even though she will turn every one of them down."

"Why?" Alfred asked, a bit curious. "It's not like there's anything wrong with 'em."

"She is very pretty," Ivan said. "But she does not plan to marry." He looked to the side, sighing lightly. "And Katyusha is so busy with work."

"So…um…" Alfred didn't know what to say. "That's okay. I mean, getting married isn't…_so_ important."

Ivan chucked bitterly to himself. "It is to my father."

Alfred's mouth formed a small "o." "So…Natalya isn't getting married and…um…your older sister's working and…um…yeah…"

"And I will never produce an 'heir,'" Ivan said emotionlessly. "But it is no matter."

Then Ivan changed the subject, and Alfred didn't object. They talked for a long time, about the party and about school and once again about how awesome their project had been. The topic meandered around lots of things, unimportant things that Alfred would not remember. But it was relaxing, and for some reason so much better than standing down in the party in which Alfred was only now realizing he didn't belong. And then, somehow, the subject swung back around into parents.

"My dad has to pay child support and stuff. But, I mean…when I get a job he probably won't have to."

"You are lucky," Ivan said. "My father decided that paying us was a waste of time."

"But…your sister can't make enough money for _all_ of you…right?"

"He _used_ to give us money," Ivan said, sighing. "He stopped after he found out about my…preferences." He then shrugged.

"You should meet my dad," Alfred said. "He's pretty cool. Even if he forgets stuff a lot. And he's coming over today, so…" There was a pause. Then Alfred's eyes widened. "Hey, uh…what time is it?"

Ivan checked his watch. "It is almost ten."

"Shit," Alfred hissed. "_Shit."_ He jumped up, heart speeding up. "_Shit!_"

"What is it?" Ivan asked, immediately concerned. Alfred shook his head.

"I was supposed to be home, like, a long time ago," he blurted out, feeling in his jeans pocket for his phone. It wasn't there. _"Shit!_"

"Calm down," Ivan shushed. "If you need to call you can use our phone."

"Yeah, but what if my mom called, and maybe she's pissed, and what if my _dad_ called and I didn't pick up and I don't want him to think that I'm ignoring him because then he won't come as much and maybe he'll like his other kids better and he'll forget about me!" Alfred cried in one breath, eyes widening with each word.

Ivan put his hand on Alfred's wrist, stopping the pacing the blond boy hadn't even noticed he'd been doing. "It will be fine. Use our phone."

"Yeah," Alfred said, trying to calm his breathing. He always tended to freak out when he knew he'd done something wrong. This was one of those times.

"Over here," Ivan guided, smiling encouragingly. Alfred took the phone, putting it to his ear. Immediately he was attacked with speaking, and he quickly hung up again. Ivan raised an eyebrow.

"There's someone on the line," Alfred said, panic coming back again. "I need to go. Now."

"Wait, Alfred—"

He shot up, dashing out Ivan's bedroom door and down the stairs. With his vague knowledge of his friend's house he was able to make it to the door, excusing himself hurriedly as he bumped into people. Then he was outside, jumping down the steps and out onto the sidewalk. His mother would never let him out again. Ten minutes and he could say he was late. Twenty and he got held up. But a whole hour? That would be inexcusable.

Alfred heard some yelling behind him, Ivan. He didn't stop, not pausing for a moment to catch his breath as he rounded the streetcorner.

"You are overreacting!" Ivan called, but Alfred knew he wasn't. While his mother could be lenient at times there were certain things she would not forget. And on top of that Alfred had to see his father, who would have been hanging around for two hours, now. He wanted to make a good impression, to have him come by more often. That wouldn't happen if Alfred just brushed him off for some fucking _party_ at which he didn't even belong.

He turned onto his street, pace quickening as his driveway came into view. Just one more push and…and…

Alfred's eyes widened, and he slowed to a stop. His chest clenched tight, and he stared at the empty square of asphalt. Empty. No car. Not even his mother's. And definitely no Dad.

Alfred heard footsteps behind him and he bit his lip. It was suddenly very cold outside, and his bare arms were starting to prickle in the late October chill. At once he burst forward again, nose stinging as he barreled into his house, slamming the door closed.

"Mom!" he called, catching his breath in the living room. "_Mom!"_

There was no answer, so Alfred tried again. "_MOM!" _he cried into the house, knowing that the building wasn't nearly big enough for him to need to be this loud. Then he glanced at the clock. 10:01. His dad was supposed to have arrived two hours ago. His nose started stinging again, but he held it back.

Alfred swallowed thickly, walking through every room downstairs. He wasn't used to being alone in the house, and he didn't like it. It felt colder, or maybe that was just because of what he was wearing. He couldn't tell. "Mom," he tried once more, up the stairs. No response. She wasn't here.

And neither was his father. Alfred's brain was overloaded, to the point where he couldn't understand anything anymore. He just needed to sit down. Sit. Calm. Relax.

And then a terrifying thought hit him.

What if his father wasn't coming at all?

* * *

><p>Alfred was a faster runner than Ivan had expected, and while wearing boots it was difficult to keep up. Not impossible, but Ivan knew he would have caught the younger boy had he been wearing more practical shoes.<p>

Then Alfred stopped in the sidewalk. Ivan slowed down as well, watching the shorter boy as he seemed to stare off into the distance for a moment. Then, as though he had never stopped, he dashed up the path to his house, slamming the door shut behind him. Ivan sighed, both in exhaustion and worry.

There was a long moment during which he thought Alfred would come out of the house, and then a longer one during which he did not. Then, slowly, Ivan walked to the front door.

"Alfred," he called lightly, from just outside. When there was no answer he turned the knob, opening the door. It took him a moment, but then he saw.

The lamp was on by the side table, illuminating one corner of the room in soft yellow light. Ivan stepped inside, eyes meeting the form scrunched up in the chair. His heart sank as he approached.

"I knew he wasn't coming," Alfred said softly, voice cracking a little as he stared out the window. He tucked his knees closer to his chest, the sheet bunching up on his waist. For a moment everything was quiet. Ivan didn't seem to know what to say to that, so Alfred continued. "He never comes."

"That is not true," Ivan said, crouching down to just below Alfred's level. "I'm sure he loves you."

"'Course he does," Alfred said bitterly, as though it were the most obvious thing. "That's not the problem." He swallowed thickly, eyes starting to get that sheen again. "He just loves _them_ more."

"Maybe he was late," Ivan offered, though it didn't look like he had much hope that his little bits of comforting would work.

"It's just Halloween," Alfred whispered. Then his face darkened, and suddenly the words were loud and vicious. "Who can't see their _own kid _on fucking _Halloween?_ It's not like goddamn Thanksgiving or something, or Christmas. Nobody does _shit_ on Halloween." Ivan's eyes widened. "He's probably taking Rebecca trick-or-treating, or whatever the kid's fucking name is. I don't care."

Ivan watched as Alfred's face fell again, and he tightened his grip on his knees. "Doesn't matter, I guess." There was a long silence, and then Alfred took in a breath as though about to speak. "He got married again, you know. After he left. Like right away. It's probably why he left in the first place."

"I'm sorry," Ivan said, and Alfred realized for the first time that the older boy's hand was resting on his arm. He didn't move to dislodge it.

"Don't be," Alfred snapped, immediately regretting how it sounded. "Your dad's even more screwed up. At least mine had the decency to fucking forget about me."

"And somehow," Ivan said, "That is worse."

Alfred didn't say anything for a long time. Then he closed his eyes, letting out a smooth breath. "Yeah. I guess."

Ivan seemed to watch Alfred for hours, eyes glued to the shorter boy's face. Then he sat back on his heels, before standing. For a moment he broke eye contact with Alfred, his eyes catching a vase sitting on the other side of the room. He stepped over to it, and Alfred watched as the tall boy's fingers found the fuzzy stem of the sunflower sitting inside.

"Mom put that there," Alfred said, not sure he enjoyed the blinding quiet in the room. "Um…she liked it."

Ivan picked up the large flower, his thumb running over a petal. "Alfred?"

"Mmhmm?"

Ivan was quiet for a moment, before he let out a sharp sigh. One of commitment. He turned his head just a little and Alfred could see the outline of his profile. "May I tell you something?"

Alfred bit his lip. "Yeah. Okay."

"No," Ivan said, watching Alfred seriously. "I mean, will you understand?"

"'Course." Alfred's tears were slowly waning, replaced with curiosity in his eyes.

"I've told you before," Ivan said, still seeming as though he was steeling himself for something important. "You…there will be no ambiguity this time. And I am tired of…" he trailed off for a moment, eyes losing their grip and falling to the side. Then he closed them tightly, and when they opened they were locked on Alfred again. "I am tired of being misunderstood."

Alfred was silent. Ivan looked like he was ready to leap up and run out the door, but he didn't move. There was a long moment before Ivan started back toward the boy curled up in the chair. He waited to speak until he was right in front of Alfred, tall but somehow no longer looming.

"I…Alfred…" he seemed to be unsure for a moment. Then he cleared his throat and extended the flower to Alfred. The younger boy stared at it for a moment before taking it. He couldn't say anything. His mouth wouldn't work. "Alfred," Ivan started again, looking much more determined. "I am Sunflower."

Alfred's eyes widened, mouth parting just slightly. He hadn't even noticed how his heart had sped up, and now it was racing along so fast it felt like one beat. His grip tightened on the flower in his hands as Ivan leaned in just a bit. The taller boy's hand came to rest on the back of the chair, his eyes never leaving Alfred. He was more confident now, and Alfred could barely process what he was saying.

"And, for the sake of clarity, I love you."

Alfred was still unable to form words. They just flew through his mind without sticking, his mind racing nowhere too fast for him to stop. _I love you_. Love. _Love_. Ivan said love. Ivan. _That_ Ivan. Yes, him. A guy. And…and…Alfred...he didn't…too many thoughts and no way to order them.

Ivan watched Alfred for a moment, eyes searching through his own. Then, a single hand came up, fingers touching the blond boy's jaw. Alfred's heart took another jump, this time threatening to spring from his chest entirely. He tilted his head up, and a moment later their lips met.

And dear _God_. It was the most perfect thing Alfred had ever done.

They stayed that way for a long moment, one that seemed to last forever and then no time at all. Alfred's mind was peacefully blank, his only focus how much _softer_ Ivan's lips were than he could ever have imagined and how much…how much he'd needed this without realizing. Damn. Things made sense now.

The flower. Ivan's confession in the courtyard. How he _wasn't acting._ Alfred wanted to slap himself. And, you know? He kind of liked Ivan, too.

They broke apart after that eternal moment, Alfred looking deeply into Ivan's eyes. All else was forgotten as they simply watched each other, and if Alfred could have remained that way his whole life he'd have been just fine. Because…because Ivan's hand was on his cheek, pinkie trailing down to his neck, and they were just watching each other…and it was faultless. Interminably right. Everything.

Alfred almost forgot where he was, why he was here. All other problems had been shoved aside for the moment. And then there was the crackle of wheels on the driveway that Alfred barely noticed or processed. Ivan stood up to his full height again, extending a hand to the shorter boy. He seemed to be in the same stupor that Alfred himself was.

So Alfred took the hand, helping him to his feet. Then, almost instantly, he found himself wrapped in a tight hug. He wasn't sure who had initiated it, but he didn't care. Carefully he closed his eyes, resting his head on Ivan's shoulder.

Suddenly, there was some shuffling outside and the sound of the doorknob turning. Ivan and Alfred broke apart, eyes snapping to the door. A moment later it swung open, and Alfred's mother stepped inside, in some deep conversation with the person right behind her. As the man took that fateful step into the living room, Alfred's eyes lit up.

"Dad!" he cried, rushing forward. His father smiled broadly, opening his arms as Alfred crashed into him. The boy didn't care if he looked like some little kid. He honestly didn't care about anything right now.

"Hey, buddy," his dad said happily, and this hug was much tighter, much stronger, much more familiar. Alfred glanced back at Ivan, who was looking faintly amused. And kind of like he was drunk.

"I'm sorry, Alfred," his mother started, setting her purse down on the arm of the couch. "Your father's car broke down and I had to go pick him up. I hope you weren't waiting long."

Alfred didn't say anything about staying late at the party. "Nope. Just…um…chilling." He looked over at Ivan again, who simply nodded.

"Did you have fun?"

Alfred nodded, and his father raised a single eyebrow. "What's this I hear about a party?"

"Just this Halloween thing," Alfred said. "Nothing much."

"And is this that kid you were talking about?" his dad asked, gesturing to Ivan. Alfred nodded, and at once he could feel Ivan's lips on his own as though it was happening. Alfred's dad grinned.

"Right!" he said suddenly, clapping his hands together. "I'm starving. Any good food around here?"

And so Alfred's mother and father went into the kitchen, and Alfred turned back to Ivan. "So, yeah. That's my dad," he said, shrugging. Ivan chuckled lightly, reaching for the shorter boy's hand. And then they were kissing again, and Alfred's mind cleared. There was really nothing to think about anymore.

* * *

><p>Sam Jones sat down at the kitchen table as his ex-wife rummaged through the refrigerator. "Anything in particular you'd like?" she asked, and he shrugged.<p>

"Whatever you got," he said, winking. She rolled her eyes.

There was a moment of more rummaging, and then a question came to the man's mind. "Hey, uh, wasn't Matthew supposed to be here, too?"

May stopped, standing and turning around. "Yeah. I haven't seen him."

"That's weird," Sam said, furrowing his eyebrows. "Poor guy's probably exhausted."

"Right. He's probably in bed already. Oh well."

There was another silence, and then. "You look hot today."

May wrinkled her nose. "Better not let Joan hear you say that."

"I just calls 'em as I sees 'em," Sam defended, leaning back and relaxing in his chair. " And I'm pretty damn tired too."

* * *

><p><em>...can anyone guess who Ivan was for Halloween?<em>

_Review, my pretties? And if you can point out any typos I'll...um...damn, I think I'm out of ideas. How about this: I'll do whatever you want. That can't possibly go wrong! :B_


	19. Epilogue: Romantic

_Hello, my pretties! This is the epilogue, the end, the little snippet I decided would go at the end because if I ended it on the last line of that last chapter it would be kind of really, really lame. So yeah!_

_Congrats to those of you who got Ivan's costume right. He was Tsar Nicholas II, the last tsar of Russia (before the revolution and things kind of collapsed all around him. And went all communist.)_

_I don't know if anyone noticed but I gave Alfred's parents really corny names. Like REALLY corny. His mother is May, for the Mayflower, and his dad is Sam. For...um...Uncle Sam. Yeah. Sure._

_Thank you so very much to everyone who has been reviewing and reading this story :3 I'm glad so many people liked it. Although I have no idea what I'll do with my time now that it's finished..._

_Anyway, enough of my rambling. Enjoy!_

* * *

><p>Matthew stumbled into the house at about three in the morning, though he was not sure he'd have been able to see the clock if he tried. It was quiet and dark, but the humming in his head was enough to keep him from noticing his sloppy footsteps. There were a million things running through his head and then nothing at all. The most prominent thoughts, however, were four questions.<p>

Where were his pants?

What was that sticky stuff on his head?

Why were there four dollars sticking out of his underwear?

How much had he drunk, exactly?

Everything felt almost fuzzy, like he could touch something and it would only be half there, or like he was kind of forgetting something, only he didn't care. It was a good feeling, like he was really calm and happy and he almost wanted to laugh but there was nothing to laugh at. And his legs were kind of cold.

In the dark of the house he could see two forms on the couch, sleeping soundly. Ivan's head rested against the arm of the couch and Alfred leaned against the taller boy comfortably. Matthew could barely resist the "aww" that threatened to break free. Or maybe he said it anyway. He had no clue.

Anyway, he knew he had to sleep, and he knew that his bed was up a flight of stairs that seemed to get longer the more he thought about it. So he yawned widely, making his way over and plopping down heavily on the unoccupied part of the couch. Alfred made a small, sleepy noise, and Matthew shushed him. Then he giggled, leaning his head back. It only seemed like a second before he was drifting off.

When Alfred awoke in the morning, he was quite embarrassed to find that somehow, during the night, he had managed to curl up almost entirely on top of Ivan. The older boy's hand rested on the small of his back, and Alfred's head sat on Ivan's chest. And, even then, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to move. For one the taller boy was warm, and even though his costume was a bit scratchy there was no problem.

He heard some shifting by his feet, and, taking a deep breath, he glanced down. Matthew sat rather awkwardly on the other end of the couch, his head tilted back as far as it would go and…where were his pants? It was all a bit foggy, jumbled in his sleepy mind. So he relaxed again, perfectly aware now how he was sleeping and honestly not caring.

Then Ivan took an extra deep breath, eyes fluttering open. They met Alfred's for a moment, and then he smiled. Alfred felt the hand move from his back and come to the back of his head, stroking his hair. Alfred snickered a little.

"This is so gay," he mused, but he only batted at Ivan's hand in jest. Ivan raised an eyebrow.

"You just noticed?"

Alfred rolled his eyes and started to sit up. Ivan helped him rather needlessly, but Alfred was really more focused on how much colder he was now. He wasn't sure he liked it, but a moment later Ivan took his hand and there was a soft kiss on his temple.

"_Доброе утро," _Ivan whispered, and Alfred felt warm again.

Because, no matter how gay it was, or how mushy-gushy, Alfred was still kind of that romantic. But that was okay, because as Ivan wrapped an arm around him without asking and he knew he liked it Alfred realized that maybe, just maybe, Ivan was one too.

If just a little.

* * *

><p><em>Доброе утро - Dobrae utra - Good morning.<em>

_I've been thinking about going back and romanizing all of the (rather infrequent) Russian spellings. So people can actually read them without knowing the Cyrillic alphabet..._

_You don't really have to review this one XD But if you want to, be my guest. And...um...I'll give you...love? If you can point out any typos in this little thing._

_EDIT: Oh, and I almost forgot! If you liked this story (:3) then it has a companion fic I've been starting, called "Bulletproof." It's about Arthur and Francis and how they got together pre-Oblivious, so if you like that kind of thing check it out! (Please?)_


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